Birth and Blessing
by NinaVuelta93
Summary: Follow the story of the woman who was Arthur's knight. Hers is the story like all others before her, sent to a land she hates and a war she disagrees with, where is the time for pathetic ideals like love? Can one of her brothers-in-arms change her mind, show her that love is not fictitious? Fair warning: this is a fictional fluff ball!
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: After reading so many King Arthur fanfictions and loving all of them I have decided to write one of my own and hopefully it will be as good as everyone else's (Crosses fingers)_

_This is an idea I had developed after watching the movie the first time and, yes a woman knight is a total cliché but I just love the idea of it. Since there are several thousand KA fanfictions I don't have the lifespan to check if this story is in any way an infringement on someone else's work so if there are any similarities I promise they are purely coincidental. I don't deserve to call myself a writer if I knowingly stole someone else's idea. _

_I wrote this story using both the director's cut and the original version of the film, luckily I was able to watch both, so if there is anything missing or something you don't remember seeing, I can only urge you to go see the other version of the movie and all will become clear ;-)_

_I wish I owned King Arthur (Especially his knights) but alas I don't own anything that you recognise and love, all credit goes to the filmmakers and their genius minds! I hope you all enjoy it and please don't be afraid to give me feedback, ideas or whatever, I love criticism good and bad, but flames are just hurtful, people._

_Happy reading!_

_Nina_

* * *

"Land of bear, land of eagle.

Land that gave us Birth and Blessing

Land that called us ever homeward

We will go home across the mountains."

I.

_The village goes up in flames, one of the few left in this hell that was once a beautiful world._

_The huts are like pyres burning in the night sky, the noise and heat is forcing all the air away. You can hear the sound of death as it spreads over the valley. Smoke rises up in an acrid black cloud over the mountains. People for hundreds of miles will probably be looking out their windows now, watching the fire from a hundred leagues away, and thinking about all the things that are dying. _

_This tribe was the last safe place in the Sarmatian world, the last place where certain people could feel safe._

_My home._

_I watch from a river that runs through the grassy expanse, water up to my shoulders I can feel the heat of my home going up in smoke._

_Tears are streaming down my face, and not just from the smoke I've inhaled as I ran for my life._

_Everything I held dear is by now a pile of ash. Just like that I'm alone in the world, my whole existence in a river that's beyond freezing. _

_They think I'm dead, they think I've burnt up with the rest of my tribe, but I'm more alive than ever._

_But it wasn't long until the Romans found me again. And this time there was no hope of escape for_ me, I _simply had to accept my fate and learn to adapt._

Annia was not sure what she expected as she rode up to her new home.

Its name suggested quite clearly that there'd be a wall. And Romans, they that she hated most on this earth despite her heritage. She glanced at the others in her company, the looks of apprehension on their faces must have matched hers. This was home now, and she hated it from the moment it appeared on the horizon.

As they neared the wall, Hadrian's Wall, Annia spotted a small boy gazing at them from a stream. She wouldn't remember much of what she thought of him later, but she knew she would never forget the look of warmth and welcome on his face as their eyes locked. He gave a small smile and lifted a hand in greeting and she did the same. An older man, a man of religion by the look of him, was saying something to him, glancing at the group every now and then.

One of the boys, Lancelot, nudged Annia as she was watching the other boy, "That's our commander to be, Artorius."

"But he's so young." Truthfully the boy didn't look older than twelve, her age.

"So? We are all of us too young for the life that lies ahead."

She didn't answer, what was there to say, really? But Annia could not help but think that if that boy was to lead them, then this life may not be so bad after all. Hopefully.

He was there when they reached the fort that served as the wall's main post. He looked nervous, poor thing. He probably never got a say in the decision for him to be their commander. But as they all dismounted their steeds, he straightened himself up and stood with pride and friendliness as they approached.

The roman that had fetched Lancelot gestured to the young Arthur and said to the young group, "This is Arthur Castus, he will be your commander once you have completed the first years of training and are ready to begin service."

The rest of the boys eyed Arthur with wariness as the Romans walked away, saying someone would be along to show them their rooms shortly, but Annia was unwilling to show any emotion whatsoever, fixing a spot on the wall behind Arthur with her stony gaze instead. The one thing she had decided when she was first taken from her life, was the Romans could break her inside, have her screaming for death, but outside they would never know of her true feelings. They didn't deserve the satisfaction of seeing her defeated. Arthur looked at each of the boys in turn, his bright green eyes showing nothing but interest in his new knights. Annia stayed near the back, folding her arms and letting someone, anyone else do the talking.

"Well, let's have your names, then." It may have been a command, it may not have been, Arthur's tone betrayed nothing and it was frustrating.

The boys took turns in giving Arthur their names, and when it was Annia's turn, Arthur was visibly shocked to see a girl amongst the knights. It was unprecedented, so she understood his alarm, but her temper still stirred at his scrutiny.

"My name is Annia."

"You're a girl?" now his arms folded and his eyes narrowed slightly. Not in a sinister way, just curiously. Annia didn't think Arthur had it in him to be cruel. Not yet, at least.

"Well spotted, Sir Arthur. Perhaps your intellect does suit the role of a _roman_ commander after all."

She heard snickers, a gasp or two, but Arthur first looked annoyed, then his face broke into a smile as he saw the joke hidden in her retort and he stepped forward, holding out his hand to her.

As they shook hands he said cheerfully, "Annia, I think this is going to be the start of a beautiful friendship."

"Or an unsurpassed rivalry that will shake the ground of this earth."

"Either way, it is sure to be exciting."

Annia couldn't help but smile at that.

When the knights, about thirty of them altogether, were shown to their rooms, in a building specifically designated for them, Annia groaned when she realized that for the first few years she'd have to share a room with three other boys.

Their names she didn't really care to remember until she absolutely had to, and she could see their frustration as they tried to get her to talk to them further than one word at a time. On one hand she understood their desire to be her friends, they were all in this together after all, but she knew the lives they were destined to live out on this island. Half of them wouldn't live to see twenty and she didn't want to form bonds with men she'd have to bid farewell to as they left the world one by one.

Her continued reluctance to open up only caused more rifts between herself and them, and as friendships formed over the first few weeks Annia found herself on the losing side of this battle. Many had already given up on her ever letting them close, but a few still persisted. Arthur made conversation with her regularly when they weren't training, and she even smiled some when Lancelot was around. Further than that though was expecting too much of her.

She wasn't the only quiet one, a boy named Tristan was even more aloof than her as anyone had yet to even hear his voice, some wondering if he even had one, but because she was a girl, well it probably bruised their egos a bit to know she wasn't a weak pushover that would be swayed by their charms.

About a month after their arrival the winter season came to the wall and it was like the fort went into a kind of sleep with heavy snow. At times it was impossible to walk outside, and the Sarmatians had to settle for training in the stables, or practicing on their own in their quarters. They trained so hard because they all secretly wished to be as prepared as possible for their first mission. The promise of freedom, no matter how far away, made them disciplined and resolute in their training.

They didn't practice anything specific with any weapons in particular, just basic combat exercises they were taught and strength training. The real training, they were told, would start when the hot seasons returned.

Annia's thirteenth birthday came and went, a day she did not celebrate or even mention to anyone, and it seemed life was finally slowing down enough for her to take a breath.

She even found a deep love of the forest that surrounded the south of the wall. Often she'd go out and just wonder through the trees before she was expected at training.

It was there that she first realized her natural eye for detail. Most of the time without realizing it she would track footprints or try and pinpoint the source of any particular noise she heard. It was a skill she put to use at the fort as well, observing people and their habits, taking note of flaws in their movements and their facial expressions. She could spend hours just getting to know people without actually talking to them and in a way she felt she knew them better because they had never said a word to her.

When the snow finally let up, Annia went to the forest nearly every day. It was dangerous for her to be out there on her own, but it was the only time alone she could have.

But one day, at around noon, for the first time ever, Annia was bored.

Trying to find tracks or signs of spring had lost its appeal for the first time so she settled for climbing a tree to see how high she could get.

When she was near the top she heard the sound of someone approaching and she froze. Rumours of Woads in the area had spread the last few weeks and she was here, alone with no weapons. How could she be so stupid?!

But when she caught sight of Tristan walking towards her tree she let out a long sigh. Then cursed him silently for scaring the life out of her. He was an odd one. From one of the more isolated tribes his features were darker and more exotic, especially with his facial tattoos, and at seventeen he already looked like a lethal warrior.

The boy stopped just below her perch, knelt down for a second then said in a normal volume, which she somehow still heard, "Are you going to come down any time soon?"

Annia tried not to let out a sound of shock at the fact that she was the first person to hear him speak!

"Depends." She on the other hand felt the need to add a bit of volume to her voice.

"On?"

"If I don't want to, what are you going to do, come up here and fetch me?" she didn't know why she was playing, but she figured Tristan must have liked her at least a little bit if he was talking to her, on purpose.

"I might do." He was still kneeling in the snow, not looking up at her.

"Spare me, you couldn't get this high if you had wings."

"Would you like to wager that, little girl?"

Annia's eyes narrowed at his belittling tone, "Before I reach fifty, you're either on a branch my height or I have the pleasure of hearing you sing tonight at the tavern, in front of everyone."

Tristan seemed to bristle slightly, and Annia felt herself grin, but then he reached for the first branch and she started to count.

The blasted boy was sitting next to her before she reached thirty!

Annia grinned in good natured defeat as he gazed the view she had been enjoying when he arrived.

"So now what, Tristan? You proved me wrong, what is my humiliating punishment?"

He looked at her for a moment with a blank expression and said, "Just as you said, I have the pleasure of hearing you sing tonight at the tavern, in front of everyone."

"What?" Annia sputtered out a reply as he began descending the branches with ease. Scrambling after him, trying to get him to take it back, Annia lost her footing about halfway down and plummeted to the ground. Landing painfully on her side she looked up as Tristan lowered himself to the ground. He smirked at her lying there in a pathetic heap, but all Annia could think about was what he had asked her to do.

"Don't make me sing, Tristan. Not for them." She was referring to the Romans. She hadn't sung since her mother died and for her to sing with their cursed ears nearby she felt it would be like slapping her mother across the face.

Tristan knelt and pulled her up, taking her shoulder in a comforting gesture, "But I wish to hear you sing somewhere. As I'm sure all of the knights do."

"Why?" for all he knew she could make birds drop out of the sky at the sound of her singing. And why would the knights want to hear her sing, they barely heard her speak.

"Because I've heard you singing to your horse. It would be a welcome relief in this place for all of us."

"But they don't like me." And that was entirely her fault.

"They want to, Annia. If you would just let them in, they could be your family here."

"Oh, you mean in the same way you let them in to your life?"

He didn't react in the way she thought he would. She knew she'd crossed some kind of line in the way his eyes seemed to cloud over.

"Forget that I asked."

When he stated to walk away, Annia sighed in frustration. Truthfully what did she have to lose besides a possible friendship?

"Wait. I'll do it. I'll sing for you scoundrels."

He turned back and nearly smiled, "No tricks, now."

"On my honour as a knight." She made a fist and held it above her heart, "I swear to sing."

Tristan gestured for her to follow him as he walked back towards the fort.

They had not gone one yard when he suddenly stopped and Annia felt his whole body go rigid.

"Annia, don't move."

Annia looked towards where Tristan's piercing gaze was directed, and saw it immediately. Like pitch on the snow, a black wolf stood about twenty feet away from them, standing just as still, its blue eyes fixed right on them.

Annia's heart leapt into her throat. She could feel her Tristan's right arm tensing as he gripped the dagger he always had with him, in a stance ready to throw it.

In barely a whisper he said, "When I say, run to the biggest tree you can find and _don't_ come down, you hear."

"But Tristan…"

"Now!"

In a split second the wolf sprang forward, Tristan lifted his arm and Annia fell backwards into the snow scrambling away towards a tree, _any_ tree.

She forced herself not to look back as the sound of savage growling filled her head, running as fast as her suddenly leaden legs could carry her.

She wanted to stick to the path that lead to the fort, but from experience she knew there were far too many obstacles there, rocks, fallen trees and hidden holes under the snow would no doubt slow her down. So she took a completely unknown route and ran blind.

The sound of Tristan fighting for both their lives was suddenly cut short as Annia burst through a thicket covered in snow and tumbled head over heels down a steep hill.

For a few seconds everything swam in her head as she rolled over again and again until she hit level ground.

Without giving herself time to rest, Annia pulled herself up and decided she was far enough away. Looking around she spied a tree and threw herself up it, climbing with everything she had.

And just when she thought she was safe, she heard the gut wrenching sound of a branch snapping, the branch she had just put all of her weight on.

With a cry escaping her lips, Annia plummeted back to the ground she was supposed to be avoiding, a bright light blinding her as the snow-covered floor slammed into her back.

Unable to do anything but try to breathe, Annia lay in the same position she had fallen in. How long she stayed like she had no clue, but when she finally managed to pull herself up, she, and the ground around her was wet from melted snow.

With a pounding headache and a back that felt worse, Annia looked around and her gaze fell directly on the wolf.

As she stared, she waited for either of two things: sheer terror that she was about to die, or the ending bite that would beat that terror.

But neither came. The former because she was still too dazed from her fall, and the latter because the wolf hadn't moved since she first spotted him.

Unable to do anything but sit there and stare at her demise, Annia fought the thought that Tristan was lying dead in the snow somewhere.

The wolf's hackles suddenly rose and it started circling her.

The sound of each paw crunching in the snow echoed through Annia's head, her body suddenly trembling. A bird whistled overhead and the sun could be seen just peaking through the clouds that seemed to cover the sky during winter.

Annia only noticed these things, these last few details of her life, when the wolf was close enough that she could see the exact colour of its eyes. If she had to grasp at any one way to describe that blue, it would be the colour of the sky she knew hid behind the clouds above her. An untainted and wild blue.

Her whole body froze as the wolf lunged, landing dead at her feet with a dagger hilt protruding from the back of its head.

Tristan helped her up and waited till she was steady before stepping away to retrieve his knife.

When he looked back at her still gazing at the wolf, he smiled fully.

"Looks like you need me to stick around, Nia."

"Looks to be that way." She didn't acknowledge the name he just given her, it sounded nice. Plus if Annia was to spend the next fifteen years in this wasteland, perhaps friends weren't the worst things that could happen to her.

* * *

_So when I reread this it sounded kinda slow, but it's just to get the story going I guess so don't write it off just yet ('Scuse the pun, see what I did there?)_

_Reviews send me to my happy place!_


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: _I really wanted to do a small piece on the training that these boys went through once they got to Briton, whether they figured some stuff out on their own as they went etc, so here it is. It may not be imaginative gold but it's my imaginings nonetheless. It will probably be more than chapter, though so here's the first piece. _

_Happy Reading :-)_

II.

Outside the sun was beating down hard but the air was still cool, Annia could feel the chill even through the tunic and jacket she was wearing.

The knights were gathered in the weapons range, the sounds of the other Roman soldiers cutting into the silence none of them wanted to break. Annia blocked them all out, she needed to do well in this test, the better she did, the less chance she had of being looked down on for being weakling of the group.

While the Roman in charge of this test gave the rules with regard to safety and the process of the test, Annia focused on the weapons she would have to use soon. Everything was laid in front of the group, from bows and arrows to swords and knives, to spears and fighting sticks, maces, daggers.

Annia had no idea which one she would perform the best with. She guessed she would just have to try them all.

The group was placed in order and each given a chance to use any weapons they chose. Most did them all and for about an hour the sounds of swords and metal tips hitting targets invaded the training circle. Annia was fifteenth in line, placed according to age, and her heart was hammering in her ears. She noted that more than a few of the knights relied on brute strength and weight, like Bors and Dagonet, while others were like gazelles in their speed and agility. Tristan was particularly lethal with a bow and arrow, going to so far as to shoot from double the designated distance.

A large group of Romans had stopped to watch now and she could hear a snigger every now and then when a knight would miss a target or struggle to use a weapon. She stood there thinking bitterly that they were no better when they first came here. It made her angry, and she could feel that anger in her head give a shake, stretching out its limbs in a preemptive strike at the first person to say or do the wrong thing. Trying her best to ignore it, Annia returned her attention to her group.

Then she heard her number being called out and stepped up to the rack of weapons, carefully weighing her options for which weapon to choose first.

She decided to ignore the spears, they seemed like they'd be too much of a challenge with her small frame. She might try a sword, but that was a last resort.

So she chose the throwing knives. The bow and arrow did occur to her but she didn't think she was strong enough to pull back that string.

Annia picked up one and held it as best as she knew how and stepped up to the targets, three circular shaped cut outs with a bulls eye in the middle. It was about a yard away and she tried to stop her hand from shaking as she pulled it back and threw with all her strength. Annia hit the circle just off centre and heard a small gasp come from the spectators. She ignored the pain in her arm, registering that she had probably pulled something, and picked up another.

She missed completely with that and the next two, and she could hear people around her getting bored. She felt the score getting lower and lower and the lucky first shot's effect wore off. She needed to make an impression and soon, her reputation depended on it. Plus her pride had come back and it was hurt.

Annia decided to bite down and try the bow, it was her last hope.

She would say she had an alright aim, she was no shot but she could hit a moving target with a stone if the situation called for it. Well, it called for it now.

Annia took the bow and weighed it in her hand, not worried about taking her time, she was moving pretty quickly compared to the knights who had tried everything, and picked up an arrow.

She stood and placed her feet in a way that felt natural when shooting with a bow, angling her hips and pulling her back straight and sure.

As she placed the arrow on the bow she felt something in her stir. This felt so familiar, so easy, that she placed that familiarity onto her face to appear like she knew what she was doing. But then she pulled back the string, the muscles in her arms tensing with the effort, and looked at the target for the first time since lining the bow up. It was like seeing through an animal's eyes, the target looked to be about a foot away. She knew exactly where to put the arrow and how to get it there, and it scared the living daylights out of her.

The arrow flew before she could aim and it went straight past the target, disappearing into the surrounding trees.

She heard the sniggers, and the comments, and she knew she'd just last her last chance.

The Roman gave a small sigh and said, "Thank you, next."

Annia took one step towards the rack to put the bow back. But then something came over her and she turned back to the Roman, her voice rising defiantly.

"No."

His face said that no one had even dared to do this before, but he remained silent, waiting for the next insane thing to come out of her mouth.

And she did not disappoint, "I'm doing it again."

One of the others Romans stepped forward, but the one in charge put an arm in his path, stopping him dead. Then he motioned for Annia to do just what she had said.

By now all eyes in the arena were on her, this mad Sarmatian who had the insane guts to stand up to the Romans.

She placed a wall between herself and them, and stepped back into position.

Pulling back not one but three arrows, Annia let her eyes determine her fingers, and she let the string go.

The arrows didn't just fly, they soared, right into the centre of each target.

Annia turned to the Roman and bowed a little for dramatic flair, "Thank you."

And she replaced the bow and went to stand with others.

One of the knights, another whose name escaped her, nudged her on the shoulder and whispered, "That was truly a sight." He had to bend down to reach her ear.

"Thank you." Annia kept her eyes forward and on the knight who was now taking his turn.

"What were you thinking?"

"I was not thinking actually." Now Annia looked up into eyes so blue they could have glowed.

"Clearly, you are quite the hellion."

"Enough to give you a run for your money, I reckon."

* * *

It was when summer finally arrived at the wall that Gawain first noticed a change in the girl.

He, like most of the knights, had given up trying to befriend her as they had each other. If she spoke more than ten words a day it was a lot, and only when spoken to first. Gawain definitely felt a need to look after her, as he was sure most of the others did too, mostly due to her vulnerability as a girl alone at the wall, but further than keeping an eye on her whenever a roman looked at her a little too closely, she was in no uncertain terms just…there. Instead the boy occupied himself with getting to know the village girls that lived at the fort. Why waste time with a girl who clearly wanted nothing to do with any of them?

But when the fields were once again a rich and warm green, life seemed to take over the girl too. After her feat of defiance on the first official day of training, something in her seemed to change, she had even joked with Gawain after she had put the bow down. He only hoped this change was permanent, pleasant Annia was far better company. One night in the midst of winter she had been sitting in the tavern with the rest of them, which on its own was surprising enough, when Tristan had nudged Bors and whispered to him that Annia had quite the voice. Gawain realized the older boy's ploy and watched as Bors, already enjoying the benefits of a tavern, called Annia over and asked her to sing.

At first she refused, trying to back away, but after a pleading look at Tristan of all people who only stared patiently at her, the girl took a step back and opened her mouth.

The sound that filled the tavern could only be described as angelic. Everyone in the tavern immediately stopped to listen to this young girl's melody.

_When the moon on a cloud cast night  
Shone above the tree tops' height  
You sang me of some distant past  
That made my heart beat strong and fast  
Now I know I'm home at last_

You offered me an eagle's wing  
That to the sun I might soar and sing  
And if I heard the owl's cry  
Into the forest I would fly  
And in its darkness find you by.

So our love's not a simple thing  
Nor our truths unwavering  
But like the moon's pull on the tide  
Our fingers touch, our hearts collide  
I'll be a moonsbreath from your side

It was strange for a Sarmatian knight, even if she was still a child, to sing a love song, especially here, and Gawain wondered why she had chosen that. But it only occupied his thoughts for a moment as he watched her. After a few lines her eyes drifted closed and she swayed a little to the rhythm her voice was creating. As she finished, she had a distant smile on her face, as if the song had brought back memories she didn't know she had. At the sight of a smile no one had seen yet, Gawain couldn't ignore the slightly faster beating of his heart.

As she retook her seat, Annia listened to the praise the other knights bestowed upon her. Needless to say they were none too surprised by her. Many Sarmatian women had the gift of singing, men too though the knights would sooner stick their heads in a hornet's nest than sing, but there was a haunted sadness to Annia's voice that was far too old for her young twelve summers.

That thought made Gawain realise that they had been in Briton for nearly a year now, their training had just begun maybe three weeks ago, yet Annia had not celebrated or even mentioned her birthday. The knights had one by one gotten heinously drunk on the night they each aged another year, yet Gawain was sure that none of the knights knew when Annia was supposed to have her turn. Not that he could picture that little thing drunk, or even slightly dazed.

Gawain was proven severely misguided as Bors shoved a tankard at Annia, the others also enjoying the drink but not enough for it to affect them the way it had for Bors. As the girl sipped the ale, she let out a disgusted choke and spat it back into the cup, "That is vile!"

A few of the knights laughed and Dagonet gave her his tankard, saying that it wasn't as strong as what Bors was drinking. Annia wasn't nearly as reluctant to finish off this brew as she had been previously, and soon she was smiling regularly, listening to the latest escapades of her brothers-in-arms. Apparently Bors had caught the eye of a young girl who was fifteen summers old in the town that morning. Bors was blushing furiously as the other knights talked about what a fool he had made of himself in front of the girl. No one knew who she was, a village girl, but when she ran past them not a moment later, giving Bors a very pointed look, Bors's cup and surrounding tabletop suddenly became magnificently engrossing for him.

Annia, to Gawain's surprise reached over and gave him a reassuring pat on the hand.

"You should go talk to her, Bors."

"No. We don't know each other, what would I say?"

"Just be yourself, you're drunk enough so you won't remember if it goes badly."

"That is true." Bors looked over to the girl once again, a wistful look in his eyes that made Annia grin, then the boy stood and left the table, walking to the girl who was helping refill tankards at the bar.

As the knights watched him go, Galahad looked at Annia and said with a smirk, "If he makes a fool of himself it's on you, milady."

"Well, if he's to depend on you lot for help finding a woman, he's going to die old and alone."

Her words, though they made the knights laugh, struck a nerve in Gawain he hadn't realized had grown since coming here. What if he died before finding a wife? It was probable, in fact it was less likely to for him to settle down with a woman than it was for him to die young.

It didn't help to think like that, but once the thought had grown it was stuck, and it made Gawain burn with anger for his ancestors.

His musings were interrupted as a group of villagers pulled out their instruments and started to play, a few of the villagers taking to dance the rest of the night away.

For all of their misfortune at having to live on this gods forsaken island, the Britons were a merry bunch.

* * *

Annia found herself tending injuries every night, waking up stiff every morning and running, jumping and ducking through the pain that just would not go away.

After a month Annia hardly recognized herself. She was still skinny, but now she looked strong and hard, her face unchanged but less like a little girl. She had aged, if not in years then in experience. She wondered what her father would think when she did eventually go home. Home.

Annia thought so little of it nowadays, the longing too strong to let in, but sometimes when she lay awake at night listening to everyone else snoring she would pretend she was back home.

Then the sun would rise and she was dragged back to this horrible reality.

One morning two months since the summer started, Annia made her way down to the training grounds, a little early as usual, and saw the commotion that was taking place.

A roman guard was bent over a boy, Annia couldn't tell if it was a village boy or not, and already Annia could see blood running down the boy's nose. From this distance she could hear what the big one was saying, and the boy did not deserve what was coming to him. Annia watched in horror as the roman untied a whip from his belt and raised it above his head. As he did so he moved slightly and Annia caught sight of Gaheris. He was one of the nicest boys out of all them! What had he done? The girl let out a growl as the whip cracked across Gaheris's back. That was something Annia could not stand by and watch.

Before any more guards could show up, Annia rose to her feet and ran over.

Annia was not a big girl, average height for a thirteen year old, but she was determined.

The girl leapt up as the man raised his hand a third time and she wrapped her arms around his neck, making him topple over from the sudden weight.

Annia was tossed to the side as the man stood and she took a few steps back in case he attacked her.

"You dare interfere Sarmatian rat!"

"Raise your whip to that boy again and my face will be the last thing you see in this life, roman!"

The roman let out an infuriated cry and lunged, catching Annia by the arm before she could move far enough.

To explain the pain that came next would take more than just words. Being struck by a roman soldier with severe anger issues is beyond painful.

Annia clutched her cheek as the barbarian advanced again. By now Annia had lost all sense, and she felt her body take over her mind, actually giving this soldier a decent fight.

That is until he managed to hit her again, sending Annia face-first into the dirt. Tasting blood, the girl looked up and saw her fellow knights had finally decided to arrive.

Smirking she said acidly, "Took you long enough!"

"We had to finish breakfast." Said Bors as he reached down and pulled her up with one hand.

Gaheris had managed to stand up and now about seven Sarmatians faced off against the soldier. Annia was ready to fight once more when a booming voice that could have shaken the wall itself had it gone much louder yelled, "Enough!"

This was the last man Annia wanted involved in this.

Harris was every bit of hard, army bred strength and unresolved childhood issues that the fort needed. As head disciplinarian, he was not one you wanted to anger.

And he was angry now.

As soon as he had quieted the skirmish he moved to stand between knights and soldier and said in a tone now much quieter, and all the more sinister for it, he asked, "Who started this?"

The soldier spoke up immediately, "The girl, sir. She interfered in my reprimanding of one of the knights in training."

"You were beating him insensible!" without realizing what she was doing in her anger, Annia grabbed hold of Gaheris by the shoulder, most likely out of fear that his so called punishment would continue.

"Silence." Harris didn't shout, but he might as well have.

He walked over to Annia, and she felt a few of the knights step closer. Harris's eyes flashed to them and a small smirk played on his lips.

"Be thankful for your brothers, girl. They won't always be there."

And that was a punishment that could have rivaled the most ruthless beating.

As Annia tried to swallow the dread that Harris's words had brought, the knights began to continue the journey to training grounds. Annia made to follow them, but was held back by a hand on her arm. For a brief moment she thought it was Harris dealing out her real punishment, but Harris's grip wouldn't be that gentle.

Turning she saw Gawain, Gaheris's brother, smiling at her warmly. When their eyes met he released his hold on her arm and his face turned serious.

"Thank you, Annia, for helping my brother. You were very brave to."

"It's my pleasure, Gawain. I couldn't have left him like that."

The boy just nodded, a small smile on his lips as he took her arm and led her to the training area.

* * *

_Song: Loreena McKennit is an amazing singer, I actually discovered her through fanfiction (Long story) so I just had to put one of her songs in my story. It's called "Samain Nights" and Ms McKennit owns it, not me._

_Reviews send me to my happy place!_


	3. Chapter 3

_Disclaimer: I own nothing except the OC's. I wish I did, but such is the way of the world hence I cannot take credit for anything you recognise._

_Happy reading!_

III.

Two years down the line Annia woke up with a very particular feeling of dread. This was the day the knights were to depart on their first mission. They had been taught all they needed to know about survival in Briton and now it was time for them to use it.

Annia had drunk up every detail of her training with eagerness, learning everything as fast as she could and relaying all of it in her head when the lanterns went out every night. Mostly because if she was inevitably going to fight woads and Saxons and what not, she had a feeling that she did not want to die of exposure or infection or whatever else, those things were slow and painful and she wanted to avoid it. And that was if she managed to avoid getting killed by another human being.

Dagonet had shown particular efficiency when it came to the healing practices, he'd sewn up and rubbed remedies on Annia's wounds many times. She was glad he was with them.

Once again while they were getting prepared, having been told to skip breakfast and go straight to the stables, Annia went over all the basics in her head.

Use spruce roots if you don't have rope, moss is best for waterproofing, use feather sticks for fire, don't drink water straight out of the source and avoid berries at all costs.

Annia waited for the supplies to be handed out, thinking about all the things that might go wrong when dealing with the wild lands of Briton. They were told they'd be gone a week.

A week was plenty of time to make a mistake.

Annia received her weapons, ones they would use in the interim until they could afford their own, and took stock of what she had. A good bow, arrows, a sword and three daggers. Each knight had been given the weapons they excelled at during training, though they were basic. Lancelot had his double swords, Gawain his axe and mace and so on. Arthur was the only one who already had his weapon. His sword, Excalibur, glistened in the pale morning light.

Now they were told what the next week would entail, besides using the environment to stay alive, and Annia felt cold listening to them. Not only would we be expected not to die from the elements, but there was a group of woads out there, that had ventured further south of the wall than usual. The wall's scouts reported that the group was small enough for the knights to find them and well… deal with them accordingly. On their own.

The band of thirty knights were divided into six groups that were to take different routes and meet up at the same location each night. Annia was placed with the main group with Arthur, Lancelot, Gaheris, Gawain and Kay.

Annia could feel her heart start to pound as the order to mount was given. She kept her face blank, but her hands were shaking as they gripped the reins. No telling what they find out there.

* * *

Annia watched the countryside go by, her eyes and ears straining, trying to take everything in at once. Every time she heard or saw something move in the trees she wanted to knock an arrow or throw a dagger or something. She kept picturing an ambush waiting for them along their path, feeling a tingling spot on her back where she imagined an arrow to be shot. She half expected, if she reached back, to feel the shaft there.

So when Gawain nudged Annia with his elbow and told her to relax, she realized she was gripping the reins with white knuckles and took a deep breath, banishing the vision that was actually distracting her from the mission.

They rode till the sun sank below the horizon without incident, the trees only getting denser.

When Annia's feet touched the ground, she realized just numb they had gotten. They had been on a few patrols with the Roman soldiers before, some quite long, but Annia had yet to get used to being in the saddle for longer than half a day before she started feeling the tingles in her legs.

Annia looked at the other knights who were surveying their surroundings, the Romans having settled in their own little group, absolutely nothing but trees for as far as they could see, and said simply, "Now what?"

All eyes seemed to turn to her and she knew some of them wanted to grin, "Now we find water and food, and build a fire." Arthur had taken to commander well.

The water skins they were given were long since empty, so that was priority right now.

Annia volunteered to go, along with Lancelot while Gawain and Galahad were put in charge of getting the fire going.

Annia and Lancelot had walked about a yard before he turned to her, "So which way?"

"You're asking me?" that kind of stupidity could get them killed.

"You are the one with all the tracking skills, I'm just the swords."

"Spectacular."

Annia crouched to feel the ground and after walking another few yards in a different direction she found a stream. She turned to Lancelot with a smug smile and he said darkly, "No need to show off."

By the time they returned to camp with the water, the other knights had arrived and Annia and Lancelot listened to the plan for keeping watch for the knight. Each group of five knights were take an hour's watch.

Annia settled on her bedroll, not having to take watch until two hours before dawn and looked at cascade of stars through the thicket of trees. The whole purpose of being in this forest was lost under the peace of this little forgotten corner of the earth, the wall and woads seeming to be a million miles away.

* * *

Annia woke up with Galahad shaking her violently, shouting at her to get up.

The girl looked around and saw that the knights on watch had raised the alarm and woads were approaching.

She was up and running in one move, grabbing her weapons off her saddle and slipping them on, pulling out an arrow and standing ready.

All she could think was, _so we didn't have to find them after all._

She could hear their approaching footsteps though they were physically lost to the darkness that surrounded the knights.

But Annia heard the attacker before she saw him. Behind them.

Annia turned and let the arrow fly.

She heard the arrow hit human flesh then a host of arrows, smaller and much faster than theirs, rained down upon them.

She scrambled up and ducked behind a tree, looking round the tree and let out a short yelp as an arrow hit the bark not ten inches from her nose. She watched where the arrows came from and aimed her own into the trees, hearing the sounds of screams as the other knights did the same.

Arthur gave the call to spread out.

A second's hesitation and an arrow pinned the shoulder of her cloak to the tree.

She pulled it out and started sprinting to her horse.

Galloping through those trees was running blind. Every now and then an arrow would remind her that they were still out there.

They'd been running for about ten miles when Annia heard Gawain scream behind her and turned to find him on the ground with an arrow in his leg.

She had no other option, she leapt of Sarafax and yanked Gawain up and ran with him limping on her shoulder. Instead of trying to follow the knights, Annia turned and ran in a completely different direction until the sounds of arrows could no longer be heard. She kept running, helping Gawain along, until her legs all but gave out beneath her. Panting heavily, Annia put Gawain down against a tree and sat beside him, trying to beat her tiredness and stay awake.

She had to make sure Gawain's wound wasn't too severe. She moved so that she was sitting in front of him, putting his leg in her lap. Other than a wince when she moved his leg, he didn't look to be in that much pain. Annia poured some water over the wound and then told Gawain to bite down. She didn't have any real healing skills, but she knew how to remove arrows and stitch wounds shut, and leaving that thing in his leg was out of the question. She just hoped they'd either find the fort or the others before he got an infection.

Annia looked up at Gawain before she touched the shaft, "Try not to think about it."

"Will do."

As soon as she got a grip on it Gawain let out a yelp and she swung her hand at him, smacking him on the side of his head. "What did I tell you?!"

"What-?" he looked a little more than shocked at her methods.

"Hush. Now I'm going to count to three alright?"

"Alright," he said in a huff, "Just don't hit me again."

Annia shook her head and said, "One…" Gawain let out a roar as she pulled the arrow out with one almighty yank. He sat back and glared at her.

She just smiled, "Two, three."

"You said you'd pull it out on three!"

"Nooo, I said I'd count to three, I didn't say on which count I would pull the arrow out."

Gawain opened his mouth to argue, but he realized she had a point.

Thankfully the hole wasn't deep enough to need stitches, so Annia just bandaged it up carefully.

When she was done Gawain said with a smile, "Will I live?"

"I think you'll live." Annia picked up the arrow and examined it closely, the head only sharpened just enough. "The arrows weren't meant to go deep, just to slow us down."

"Oh, suddenly you're an expert."

"Shut up." her eyes narrowed as the arrow revealed its secret to her, "Are woads so barbaric that they first slow down their prey so that they can kill with their hands?"

"It's effective, albeit cowardice and, as you say, barbaric." Gawain laughed bitterly, and said, "Not bad for a first mission, huh?"

"Nah, we'll get better, I'm only fifteen and you're what, ten?"

"Funny."

"We've still got much to learn. But we're still alive so that's got to count for something, right?"

"Definitely."

Unspoken words hung in the air between them and they both knew what the other was thinking.

What happened to the others?

Gawain reached over and patted Annia on the shoulder in an attempt to calm her.

"There's no use worrying. We'll just have to try and find either them or the wall. We'll know their fate soon enough but for now let's just focus on keeping ourselves alive."

Annia nodded, smiling.

All of the knights she could have gotten lost with, she was glad it was Gawain. He was a joker by nature and rarely acted serious, but he was incredibly clear headed when things went wrong. And he knew just what to say to keep her worries at bay for a while.

The woman shivered as a breeze blew through the trees, her hand going up to rub her sand dry throat. Gawain took her hand and pulled her so that she was lying against him and wrapped his cloak around them both.

"I'll keep watch, Gawain. You need to sleep."

Little did she know that the sudden warmth that having her so close had brought along with the excitement during the night had already sent him off into a black slumber.

When Annia woke to sound of birdsong, the sun was just peeking over the trees. She was wrapped snugly in both hers and Gawain's cloaks, alone.

Sitting up and banishing the sleep from her puffy eyes, Annia looked around and saw him pacing in front of her. She  
smiled as she noticed he only limped a little.

"How's the leg?"

He smiled at her and came to sit down again, "You're right, I think I'll live."

"Damn. Oh, well. Better luck next time I guess."

She laughed as he shoved her over playfully.

Righting herself she watched him look around again, "So what now?"

Annia sighed as she realized they were still lost, still a whole day's ride from the wall and had no idea if there were woads out there.

"I don't know. I don't feel right about staying here. It's too close to where the woads attacked, maybe we should move further away, try and find a road or something.

A growling in her stomach made her grin. After their escape from the woads, she was _hungry_.

"And look for breakfast."

After they found water, Annia set about finding food. She had never hunted before, but she was a pretty damn good shot with a bow now, so she figured it pretty much the same.

Gawain made it fun, laughing all the while, but even with her 'excellent' aim, after two hours she only got two rabbits and squirrel. This forest was annoyingly void of game, damn it.

They built a fire to cook the game and all in all, it wasn't bad for their first proper meal out here.

A little before sunset, Annia had found the sight of the knights' last campsite before the woads attacked. She nearly screamed for joy as she uncovered their tracks that led the way they had gone. Annia couldn't have been more relieved. Tomorrow they'd either find their brothers or at least be on the road back to the wall.

As the evening drew on she could feel the temperature plummet. Pulling her cloak closer she pressed closer to Gawain who was decidedly not shivering.

"Aren't you cold?"

"Of course I'm cold, I can clearly just ignore better than you can."

"How do you mean ignore it, I'm freezing!"

Gawain chuckled and wrapped his arm around her, but it did little to fend off the chilly air. Winter was clearly returning to Briton. It seemed to come a little earlier each year, and bring a little extra cold with it.

"So what's your story, then?" Annia said through chattering teeth, thinking that talking would take her mind off her numb body.

"Pardon?"

"What was your life like before you came here?"

"Oh, it's not a particularly exciting story. My parents passed when I was maybe three, my brother and I were looked after by our aunt."

"I'm sorry, Gawain." she knew all too well what it was like to lose your parent.

"Don't be, it was a long time ago." He sounded as if he had put his past to rest. "What about your family, Annia?"

"Well, there's my dad and sister Kestelle."

"Kestelle, that's unique." He grinned suddenly, "Is she good looking?"

Annia frowned at him, totally unprepared for that question, "What are you doing?"

"What, I'm just asking."

"I don't know, I suppose."

"Suppose I should find out for myself then, huh?"

Annia laughed despite being really uncomfortable talking about her sister when she was so far away.

"You miss them don't you?"

"Yeah, I do." Kestelle had been married and was expecting a child when the Romans came. Annia envied her good fortune, but also would never have wished this life on her sister.

"Must be nice."

"To be honest Gawain, I'd rather be here with no one to miss, than to stay awake at night wondering if they're missing me as much as I miss them, what they're doing, are they scared for me. Counting down the days until I get to see them again."

"It is a sad fate to have. But at least you know you have people who love you."

"What about your brother?" had Gawain forgotten he had one?

"I wish every day that I didn't have a brother just so he'd be spared from sharing my fate."

Annia let out a sigh, feeling a weight settling in her chest talking like this.

She looked up at the stars and realized what she had to say next.

"It could be worse, you know."

"Yeah, how?" Annia could tell he was eager for her to lift the mood.

"We could have been on our way to service in the middle of the war's worst years. Like our ancestors."

"Didn't you know, Annia? We are in the middle of the war's worst years, because now it's not just on a faraway battle field where you know who your enemy is and how to kill them."

Now how was she supposed to answer that?

Unable to give him an answer, Annia said a quick goodnight to Gawain and turned over, covering her head with the cloak and pulling her knees up to her chest.

* * *

_A/N: So a little action huh? You like?_

_Reviews_ _send me to my happy place!_


	4. Chapter 4

_Disclaimer: I own nothing except the OC's_

IV.

Having ridden at a swift pace on horseback as far as they did, it was taking the pair doubly long to get back to the wall.

They had given up on trying to find the others, all tracks and traces of them gone, and instead settled for making their way back to the wall.

Their journey remained uneventful, the woads appearing to have abandoned their conquest, so the walk was mostly silent. They had taken to walking at a distance from each other, to maximize chances of seeing danger in time, so conversation wasn't really possible.

Annia was half in a daze as she trudged through the woods, humming every now and then just to keep her mind occupied.

Gawain heard it and suggested she sing. Since no one was around to hear it besides him, she obliged.

Her voice echoed through the trees and everything in the woods seemed to go still. How did her voice have that effect every time?

_I wish I was on yonder hill_

_'Tis there I'd sit and cry my fill_

_And every tear would turn a mill_

_Is go dté tú mo mhuirnín slán_

_Siúil, siúil, siúil a rún_

_Siúil go socair agus siúil go ciúin_

_Siúil go doras agus éalaigh liom_

_Is go dté tú mo mhúirnín slán_

_I'll sell my rock, I'll sell my reel._

_I'll sell my only spinning wheel_

_To buy my love a sword of steel_

_Is go dté tú mo-_

"ANNIA?!"

Annia's singing stopped immediately as a voice that was neither Gawain's nor any other drifted to them. She looked at Gawain and the two both ran in the direction of the call.

When the knights caught sight of the pair running towards they all dismounted and embraced them. Arthur hadn't wanted to leave until he knew for sure what had become of his knights. All the others had been accounted for when they regrouped, except for Annia and Gawain and he was not returning to the wall without them whether they were alive or…

"What happened with the woads?" Annia's question followed her brief account of the last two and a half days.

"They were taken care of not long after you two went missing."

Annia turned to her fellow previously missing cohort and said, "Damn it Gawain, thanks to you we missed the fun!"

The knights laughed and Annia did a quick head count. Thirty one heads present.

Wait a minute…

Annia looked the edge of the group where the horses stood, without riders, and spotted a dark head just above one horse's back, the rest shielded. She frowned at Arthur and said, pointing to the hidden figure.

"Arthur, who is that?"

All thirty heads turned to the one and Arthur looked back at Annia with a dark look on his face.

"Oh, yes. Not only did we dispatch the woads but we picked up one of their thieves not long after we started looking for you two."

"Well, I'll be damned. A lot can happen in two days."

* * *

The knights were gathered in room of the round table, all debating what to do with their guest. The Romans wanted her put to death, but Arthur was reluctant. She was an innocent, she hadn't committed the crimes her tribe was guilty for. She was alone in the world. It made Arthur infuriatingly sympathetic towards the girl.

Add to that her injuries and they were at a loss of what actions to take.

So far though, if Annia's opinion held any worth, she was more trouble than she was worth. They'd given her a room, locked the door and windows but she was comfortable. She'd shown her thanks by completely destroying the furniture and anything else that could be thrown.

Bors has reported her little rampage and now they were discussing further action.

Tristan's suggestion had so far made the most sense.

"Why don't we just let her go?"

"It seems to be the easiest thing to do. She's too much trouble." Gaheris said with distaste.

"She wouldn't survive out there. Not with her injuries, she'd be dead before any of her kin could find her. Plus we decimated her tribe. Where would she go? And how far would she get on her own?"

"Why so sympathetic towards her, Arthur?" Galahad's voice held an edge to it that always appeared when Woads were concerned. "She's a woad."

"She was not part of our battle. She's an innocent. And we help the innocent."

"Would they have done the same for any one of us?" Annia could see Arthur's jaw tighten, she'd asked exactly the right question.

"No, but that is exactly why we will help her. At least until she is well enough to travel back to her people."

There was silence for a moment before Bors spoke up, "Does anyone even know her name?"

"She won't speak to any of us, all she does is scream at us and throw things."

Gaheris, Kay and Lancelot had tried reasoning with the girl, trying to get her to calm down a bit. All to no avail.

"Perhaps Annia should give it a go."

Annia eyes flashed at Dagonet. No way was that happening.

"That's actually not a bad idea. Annia you will have the privilege of looking after her." Had Arthur lost his mind? Annia was the last person suited for the _delicate_ task of dealing cordially with a woad.

"Oh why me?!" Annia rarely countered orders, but this was ludicrous.

"Because, maybe the girl needs a feminine touch. A kindred spirit."

"Arthur, I'll kill her the first time she tries to throw something at me."

"And that is why you're just the knight for the job. If she won't talk, at least she'll know we're not be taken for fools."

"I wouldn't bet on it." Annia let out a big sigh and sat further in her seat, glaring at the table, "Fine, I'll try to talk to her. But if it ends badly, I won't take responsibility."

"No one expects you to, just do your best."

Annia excused herself and rose from the table, heading towards the door she swung back around when Lancelot shouted, "Be nice, Annia!"

"No promises."

* * *

The vase shattered on the wall by the door as Annia stepped into the room, narrowly missing her face. She smirked as she walked further in. She'd have thought the girl would have run out of stuff to smash by now. She'd been at it for long enough.

Annia looked around at the mess and smiled cheerfully at the girl, lightening her tone, "The room not to your liking then?"

She only received a glare as an answer. The girl muttered something in her native language before sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling her knees to her chest and fixing the floor with her withering gaze. What she didn't expect was for Annia to answer her, in the Woad language.

"It's rude to say such things about the people who saved your life." It was broken and had a slight accent to it, but it was clear the woman knew exactly what was said.

The girl's eyes only showed surprise for a moment before returning her gaze to the floor. "Can all of you speak my language?" clearly she didn't know Latin.

"No, we had a woad living here a few months ago, I learned his language before he died."

Annia went to the still untouched basin, which was no doubt the next thing to be thrown before she had arrived, and picked up a metal cup, dipping it in and holding it out to the girl, who took it reluctantly.

"What's your name?" her tone was gentle now, annoyingly so, but she had to try every approach to get this girl to open up.

When the girl didn't answer, Annia looked around and found a chair, pulling it to its feet and breaking off the arm that been splintered she sat down very tentatively in case there was other damage she hadn't seen.

"I can sit here all night. It's you who's losing out."

Again, no answer. Annia was getting mad.

"Look, what are you so angry about? We saved your life!"

Annia looked down as the cup of water was flung at her. Her whole front was wet and it was cold! But she hid her sudden rage with a bored look as she eyed the girl, saying in a monotone, "Please, stop. It hurts."

"You took my life!" she screamed at her, "I wanted to die with my people, with honour, and you filthy Romans stole it from me. My brother was out there! I have nothing left."

"Alright, first of all, I am not Roman! And do you think your brother thought of the lives he was taking every time he lifted his sword? People die, it's the natural order of things."

"So why keep me here? Why not just kill me?"

"If it was up to me you would have died." The girl looked slightly taken aback at Annia's harsh words, but it quieted her enough for Annia to say the last she would.

"You see, the thing is I understand. You feel alone in the world, even though you know there are people out there who will look for you, care for you if you ever find them again. But that doesn't bring them any closer and you feel all the more abandoned for it. I get it." Annia let out a sad chuckle, "I mean, you have no idea how much I get that feeling." Despite her better judgment, Annia reached out and put her hand on the girl's shoulder, "It is infinitely easier to take life than it is to decide when a life is worth sparing. We saved you, surely there's a reason for that."

The girl looked like she had finally calmed. Maybe she wouldn't be so hard to get through to after all.

* * *

Arthur and the others waited patiently in the tavern for Annia to return from her visit to the Woad girl. Every few minutes, one of them would suggest going to check if there had been any bloodshed yet, but it was always decided against. For all of her smallness, Annia could take care of herself with more than enough avidity, so it wasn't her safety they worried for. It was pure curiosity that had the knights sitting on the edge of their seats. Their first mission had been an exciting one, cause for celebration and drinking or so some, meaning Bors, would think, and they just wanted to know what had become of their week's toils.

They waited an hour before Annia arrived. She looked calm enough, unharmed and…wet.

"What happened to your tunic, Annia?" Arthur's voice was perfectly collected, but his eyes were shrieking with laughter.

"It got a little wet." Annia sat down and pulled a tankard and the pitcher towards her.

"And where pray tell did this water come from?" Lancelot leant an elbow on the table, smirking knowingly.

"A cup." Annia could be so vague when she tried, it was infuriating.

"How did it end up on you?"

She threw her hands up and said loudly, "It was thrown at me, alright?!"

The knights all laughed and Gawain said between hiccups, "You know when you drink water, it's supposed to go _in_ your mouth, not down your chest."

Annia looked at Gawain and let out the loudest laugh of all of them, before she punched him on the arm and said with a venomous voice, "So funny, Gawain."

Arthur cleared his throat and the knights all quieted, "So what did you find out, Annia"

"Besides the woad's accuracy with a cup of water?" Lancelot ignored the pointed look Arthur gave him.

Annia sighed and said, "Well, I don't think you'll need to kill her any time soon. And she's much stronger than she was when we brought her here."

"Will the woad stay?" why did Tristan care?

"Her name is Lasair, and yes she is staying. As Arthur predicted, she has agreed to stay here, and not be a nuisance until she can travel back to her people." She looked at Arthur then, "She wants to speak with you, Arthur."

Their leader nodded, and excused himself. When he'd left the other knights returned to their celebrations for a successful mission. Gawain moved to sit next to her then, touching his tankard to hers before he asked, "So how did you do it?"

"What now?"

"Get her to talk to you. I'd have thought she be bound and gagged in that room by now."

"Why would you think that?"

"Because I know your temper."

"You amuse me, Gawain. And to answer your question, I was honest. I told her what she needed to hear and what she didn't want to know. It helped that I spoke her language too."

"Indeed, that old man taught you well."

"Yes, he did."

They touched tankards again and settled into talk of their next mission, which was short of a month away. Hopefully this one wouldn't involve having to care for a woad.

* * *

Annia watched the white horse galloping along the paddock's fence, her pace sure and her stride strong. She was an exceptional creature. Brought over with the Romans that came to the wall every year, she was wild and deemed hopeless to be a steed. Annia had come across a Roman trying to break her in a few days after her arrival, and it was not going well.

The Roman, if she remembered correctly was named Aetius, cursed loudly as he was thrown to the ground, the horse trotting to the other side of the paddock.

"Having some difficulties there, lad?" she said as she climbed up to perch on the fence.

Aetius didn't even look at her, his burning eyes were set on the horse. "Stay out of this, Annia!"

She laughed at his anger, "You know you're never going to get her to obey you if you're so spitting mad. The horse only responds to you, what's inside you."

"Well, what's inside me would like nothing more than to send her to those savages out there! Nobody's even been able to touch her."

He flung a hand in gesture towards the northern territory. Annia sighed.

Aetius made another grab for the horse, and Annia flinched as he was kicked to the ground not a second later.

She hopped off her perch and picked him up off the ground.

"Go take a break, Aetius, I'll get her in the stables for you." She reached down and pulled the bridle from the Roman's hand.

"No! I wash my hands of that beast. She's as good as dead anyway if no one can train her."

"Leave it to me, Aetius."

And she shoved him through the gate and half listened to his angry mutterings as he headed for the village.

Annia turned her full attention to the horse, smiling at her warmly.

"I commend you, lady." She said in Sarmatian, "Although from the look of it, he had it coming, huh?"

The horse's eyes stayed on her as she walked around the paddock, judging her boundaries. She gave a huff when she stepped to close.

"I get it, you're a sensitive one, probably spent your life so far running free, blue skies and oceans of grass. You miss your home, I understand that." Annia wasn't sure why she always spoke to horses in Sarmatian, it was a habit, but horses seemed to respond to it more. "But I'm in charge for the moment and right now, you need to do what I say, for your good."

She took another step forward and the horse bent her head slightly, she was pushing her luck.

Annia then lifted the bridle, watching the horse throw her head back and step closer to the boundary.

"You don't like that, huh?" the horse continued to perform, Annia smiled, "Then we don't use it." And she threw it out of the horse's field of vision. "We'll do this your way, alright?"

When Annia took another step forward and the horse didn't react, she gave a sigh of relief. She was perfectly calm on the inside, having done a thousand times, but there was just something about this horse that frightened her. She was powerful, dangerous. And she could so easily decide Annia wasn't worth the trouble and kick her like she had Aetius.

But the horse seemed at the very least to accept her presence in the paddock with her. But when she was about a meter away she lunged forward and went to other side of the paddock. Annia let out a sigh. Crouching she turned her back on her and sat in the dirt. This was a battle of wills, and Annia was losing.

After a few moments of playing with grass in front of her, Annia felt breath on her neck. Without turning she said quietly, "You're afraid, aren't you? Afraid of what your life will be like now."

Slowly Annia lifted her hand and held it there, letting the horse decide for herself what she would do.

She didn't let Annia touch her, not for another week, but before long she had her bridled and ready for a rider. And she knew just the one.

Since Annia had harnessed her, she owned her, under Roman cavalry laws, and she presented the horse to Arthur with a cheerful, "Happy Birthday, Arthur!"

Now a year later, Annia was training her own steed, using Arthur's mare Llamrei as a guide for the new stallion. He was a lot less foul tempered than his companion, and Annia smiled as the two horses trotted next to each other in a circle. When she gave the Sarmatian command to canter and Llamrei obeyed, her steed followed suit quickly.

Progress was joyfully swift. She already loved this horse, he was cheeky and playful, but quick to obey orders and learn new commands. She'd been working him for a month now, and she was sure he was ready for a saddle.

Annia smiled at Tristan as he came to stand by the fence. She gave the command to halt and went to fetch her steed, taking hold of the bridle and leading him to her brother.

"Tristan, meet Sarafax."

Tristan smiled at the stallion, reaching out to rub his pitch black nose. Annia let go of his bridle to have a quick break before they were returned to the stables.

Tristan watched the horses for a moment before saying quietly, "You have such a way with them."

"Call it a gift, it's one I'm grateful for. They let me think, be myself."

"Your tracking is getting better too. You'll be a formidable scout very soon."

"Formidable enough to fool you."

"Please."

Annia laughed. It was true she had honed her scouting skills, taking the lessons they had received before their first mission and using it to teach herself how become a mere shadow amongst the trees. Tristan never failed to help her when she asked and they trained each other, testing themselves and figuring out different techniques. By now they outclassed all of the Romans in their skills.

"What made you want to scout anyway?"

Annia grinned at the question, "The thought that _no one_ would be able to hide from me. You know the saying you can run but you can't hide?"

Tristan grinned then and nodded, Annia continued, "And the fact that I could just blend into the trees and be lost to those who seek _me_ out makes me feel… strong. Secure in my skill."

A troubled look passed over Tristan's face and Annia frowned, "Something wrong?"

"No, it's not important."

"Which means that it is." Annia smirked, when was Tristan going to stop trying to lie to her?

"It's that nuisance of a woad."

"Lasair? What's she done now?" the girl had been with them for a month and Annia had noticed a little fire brewing between her and the dark knight that terrified everyone. Now her suspicions were officially confirmed.

"Nothing, it's just she keeps talking about leaving."

"And you don't want her to?"

"Yes, no… I don't know! She infuriates me, I want to strangle her every time she insults any of us, but…" he slumped slightly as words failed him.

Annia smiled slightly. Yes, Lasair had grown on all of them. When she'd finally been allowed out of her room, she'd adapted to life at the wall quite well. She was still willful and stubborn, insisting that she wanted to leave, but the knights knew if she truly wanted to leave there was actually nothing stopping her. She could travel now, so it was purely a case of stealing a horse and riding out the gate.

Annia had a feeling she knew what was stopping Lasair from doing just that. And it was more than a little surprising at that. Tristan reveled in killing woads, they all knew it. It was a rush of pleasure for him, and he was good at it. So for him to have feelings for one was completely unexpected. But the knights had figured that underneath the blue dye that had long since been washed off, Lasair was just a girl in need of refuge, and she wasn't a bad person. She was caring, looking after all of them as a sister would, and despite their best intentions, the knights liked her.

Plus Tristan was never specific about who he raised his blade to, woads just happened to be the people he killed the most.

So instead she had learned Latin, leant her services to the tavern and settled into a life at the fort.

"She wasn't even supposed to be here."

"I know. For all of Arthur's hate for woads, I'm still surprised he let her stay here. And live as part of the fort."

"I wouldn't have allowed it." There was the dark killer.

"Nor I." Annia sighed at her heartlessness, "Perhaps it was because she is only half woad?"

"I don't know. Do you think she will ever leave?"

"I couldn't say, I think she knows there's nothing out there for her. There's more of a life here than beyond the wall where the family she hopes for may not even exist."

Tristan went to fetch Llamrei and Annia Sarafax, and they neared the stables before Tristan spoke again.

"Sometimes I think that's what going home would be like."

"What do you mean?"

"That after another thirteen years, I'll set foot on my homeland again only discover everything I once knew is gone. Everyone I know dead and buried, you know?"

"I never thought of that." Truthfully returning to see her father again was the only thing that kept Annia from going to sleep and never waking up sometimes.

Now Tristan had given her a new fear. Thirteen years was a long time. The world could change so much, and she'd be forced to just sit on this damned island and watch.

* * *

_A/N: The song is called "Siúil a rún". I didn't write it, and I don't own it. Credit belongs to those who did. _


	5. Chapter 5

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognise._

V.

Fourteen years later

The rising sun offered some relief from the biting cold air. The fog slowly began to lift with the warmth of the new day. The silence of the dawn was so heavy she could feel it press on her like it had weight. Just a few more moments. Her fingers were beginning to ache from holding the shaft so still, her legs cramping from the crouch she had settled in just before the sun broke free of the land's darkness.

On this day, exactly one year before she was freed from this hell, Annia thought about what the last fourteen years of her life had brought, especially the first few months of being at the wall.

She felt the noise before she heard it, the hairs on her neck standing on end mere seconds before the sound of a snapping twig broke through the quiet. In one move she spun on her haunches and brought the arrow up, finding her target and releasing her arrow in the same breath. The deer never even saw it coming. One heartbeat and its life was quickly over. She rose to her feet, slipping the bow over her shoulder as she stepped towards the animal. Crouching next to it she laid a hand on the deer's head, marveling at the strength that hid under the skin. Closing her eyes she thanked Mother nature for her gift, before putting two fingers in her mouth and letting a high pitched whistle pierce the still morning air. Mere moments passed before she was joined by her companion. He was quiet and dark, all things come to be expected of them in this cursed place. Smiling at her for a beat, he bent to help her divide the catch into smaller pieces, ready to take home.

Home.

What a bitter feeling that thought brought.

"Quite the catch, hellion."

"Patience is a virtue. Spoils await those who earn it."

"And sitting still on a rock for an hour is earning it?"

"But of course, one cannot expect to fell a deer if it can hear you."

He let out a laugh, well the closest thing he came to laughing, and they finished the chore in silence. Preparing to head home, the pair stood, and her gaze fell to the lake that lay before them. A hand gripped her shoulder and she met his gaze. He didn't say anything, just pulled her away from the lake and towards where the horses were tethered, dragging three bags of fresh game with them.

Arthur's scout was silent, and she wondered if he had left the road in that silent way of his. She was a scout too, but she couldn't ever hope to be as efficient and deadly as Tristan.

"Don't you ever fear for the future, Tristan?"

"Fear's good Annia, without it there would be no courage."

"But does it have to make me feel so powerless and weak?"

Again the gravelly laugh drifted between them, although Annia didn't really see what was funny.

"You're a Samartian knight, Nia. Weakness isn't allowed."

"Are you saying that to convince me or yourself?"

Tristan was silent. Annia wanted so desperately for him to just talk about it, tell someone what he was feeling. But the dark knight was stubborn, retreating into himself so far until all that was left was a cold killer. He'd been ruthless before, but one incident turned him to stone.

"It's been three years, Tristan. When are you going to at least acknowledge the fact that she's gone?"

"It is not your place to speak of her like that."

"Like hell it is, she was my friend as well as your woman. But she chose to go back to her people."

"It matters not."

"How can you say that? You two loved each other. Why is it so hard for you to admit that you cared about Lasair?"

"Because all I feel is pain and anger, if I let myself feel. Whatever love I may have had, she took it with her."

"We knew she would probably end up going home, Tristan."

"She left because of me. Because she couldn't bear the burden of watching us kill her kin. Our duty has never been something I could escape and now it has cost me the one thing I cared about."

Annia could hear how defeated he sounded, so she wasn't too surprised when he said darkly, "I will not speak of this again, so do me the courtesy of not asking."

* * *

By the time they reached Hadrian's Wall, the sun was well above the tree line. As usual, Annia and Tristan went straight to the fort's kitchen with the spoils of the morning hunt.

Vanora was only too thrilled to see the haul Annia brought in, Tristan obviously refusing to take credit even for helping get it back to Hadrian's Wall. As she prepared the kitchen for the coming chore to prepare it, the red-haired woman relayed the events of the morning while Annia sat on a table munching on a breakfast apple. Tristan had taken his and left the kitchen without a word, as was his way.

Annia continued to listen quietly to Vanora's animated words, once again marveling at the older woman's ability to have a conversation with herself. As usual, Vanora's eleven bastards were running Hadrian's Wall into chaos, the market becoming the stage for their most recent scuffle. Annia smiled as she pictured Gilly socking whoever had insulted one of his siblings, and the other ten children joining in just because they could. She adored those children as if, gods forbid, they were hers.

Vanora turned to Annia just then, a contemplative look on her face. Annia's shoulders sagged, after listening to a speech about children, she knew what Vanora would say next.

"You know, Nia, it's about time you took a man and started your own little family. Put those curvy hips to good use."

"Come now Vanora. You know a family is a ludicrous idea for a knight."

"Didn't stop Bors and I."

"No it certainly didn't." Annia ducked as a carrot was thrown at her head.

"Besides, Nora. What man would take a woman that is practically a man in all but physical build?"

"Nonsense, Nia! I'll not have you speak of yourself that way. You're a vision, when you try to look female. And I can think of plenty of men that would welcome the company of a strong woman like yourself." Annia could only think of one who had actually ever taken an interest in her, and that was years ago. Reluctantly Annia looked down at herself. True there were things about her appearance that she liked. Her eyes were the color of pine and flecked with hazel, her waist length blonde hair fell in loose curls with several small braids and beads hanging in the tresses. But none of that mattered in her line of work. Even though she was slender, her height gave her a distinct advantage over many of her male opponents, they never really expected the strength with which she fought and that was often their undoing. Which was also partly why very few men looked at her with any sort of lust or affection.  
"Name one."

"Gawain." Annia choked on her bite of apple and it took several moments before she stopped spluttering. Once she had composed herself, she glared at the smirking red head.

"Vanora, don't say such horrendous things, Gawain is never short of company more suited to his tastes." None of them ever ran out of playmates.

"Oh, tosh! I've seen the way you two behave around each other." Vanora smacked Annia's hand as she leaned over to snag some cheese that was lying nearby.

"Nora!" Annia rubbed her hand tentatively, the redhead had a strong hand, thinking about what Vanora had just said. She had always believed she treated all the knights like brothers, and that none of them viewed her any differently than they did each other. Vanora's words suddenly made her doubt her easy friendship with the knight in question for the first time in years.

Annia shook her head angrily, then she caught sight of a bowl of pure gold that Annia couldn't help but be drawn to. As she snuck towards it Vanora, who had had her back turned when Annia first spotted the prize, sharply swiped her wooden spoon across the back of Annia's head.

The woman turned, rubbing her head with a wounded look on her face, and said pleadingly, "Oh, please Vanora! It's been too long since I tasted honey. Please, please, please!"

"Alright, alright! If it will shut you up, you may have one piece."

Annia closed the distance between herself and the bowl and, after careful scrutiny, picked up a particularly sticky piece of honeycomb and went back to her spot on the table.

As she bit down she let out a moan of pure bliss, "Mmmmm, I want to _be_ a honey bee."

Vanora laughed, and continued their previous conversation, much to Annia's chagrin.

"But honestly, girl. You're not that young anymore, you don't want to miss your chance of happiness do you?"

Annia rolled her eyes, licking her fingers as she swallowed the last of the comb, "Well what does it matter, anyway? I'm far too dangerous to be a mother. Besides I have your brood to keep me busy enough as it is!" she said with a full mouth.

As if summoned by her words, the hoard burst through the doors and, upon seeing Annia perched on the table top, screamed with delight as they rushed towards her. Annia held up her hands and said with a voice like thunder, "Stop right there!" and as if a magical barrier had suddenly appeared in the room, all eleven stopped and waited for Annia's next words. Vanora walked up next to Annia and put her hands on her hips, "Why can't you lot ever listen to me and your father like that?!"

Five spoke up from near the back, "Because Annia likes us." Making the girl grin widely.

Vanora let out a snort and returned to her work, saying acidly, "It's no wonder Bors says they like you more than me."

Annia giggled and hopped off the counter, walking straight into the middle of the group and taking whoever's hand she touched first, and led the children outside, asking them about the fight they had started in the market.

* * *

Outside in the fort people were already crowding the streets preparing for the day. They walked past the market and Annia grinned at the mess, the children talking all at once about what had happened.

It was a matter of defending the family honor according to them.

Little Ten tugged on Annia's hand, begging the older girl to pick him up, and she lifted him up onto her hip.

"Nia, Nia, Nia!" Annia grimaced as her ears rung.

"Come now Ten you don't have to shout I'm right here."

"But Nia, uncle Dag was looking for you while you were hunting."

"For what?" she looked to others and found them all nodding. Gilly shrugged, "Something about a meeting after breakfast."

"Oh curses!" Annia all but dropped Ten as she made a mad dash for the knights' meeting room.

She burst through the door just as they all sat down, panting heavily.

Annia straightened and moved to her seat, ignoring the pointed look she received from Arthur and the grins from the other seven knights. Sitting down she slumped in her chair and took a deep breath, waiting for the meeting to officially begin.

Arthur stood and addressed his knights.

"Knights, now that we are all present, thank you Annia," all he got in answer was a slight wave, "Let us remember that exactly a year from today, we will all be free men."

Silence hung in the air at Arthur's words. Their final year of service. It was too good to be true. Annia was watching the knight opposite the table to her, just because he was in her line of sight. Gaheris and Gawain were the last set of brothers left, and she was sure the look on her face matched that of Gaheris: pure joy that they were nearly there.

"But back to the present. We've received word from our scouts in the north that several Roman occupied villages have been attacked by Scott tribes. The fort has been instructed to provide aid to those left behind. We will accompany a group of soldiers that will be sent to ensure the survivors aren't attacked again."

"If there are survivors." Bors never shied away from stating the blunt truth.

"There are, Bors. They've been gathered in a village about two days' ride from here."

"How many?" asked Lancelot.

"A few hundred. We must begin making preparations to gather food and anything else they need. We leave in three days."

Annia sat in quiet contemplation as the plans for the mission were discussed. This was the part of the meetings she never relished in. The planning, the delegating and so forth. She was a woman of action, not words, and discussing missions with Roman soldiers was hardly an activity she enjoyed.

Idly she began to play with the gold circlet around the middle finger of her left hand. Her father had given it to her in parting when the Romans came to collect her. It was nothing to spectacular, a thief probably wouldn't give a second glance, but it meant the world to her. Gazing at the inscription, Annia let her thoughts wonder to that fateful day. She had been merely twelve seasons, spending that day breaking in the new horses the men had brought to the tribe. Since she could walk, Annia had displayed such a gift for horse handling that her father had put her to working with them as soon as she could fall off and not get hurt. It was a job she loved, one she looked forward to. That day she was working with a particularly stubborn mare, her clothes and skin filthy from having been tossed to the ground several times, when she heard the call that the Romans were coming.

Leaving the horse in the pasture, she ran to join her father and aunt as the tribe gathered. The pompous slimes rode up in their red uniforms, smiling coldly. Annia couldn't think what they would be there for this season. The boys from the village were all already off serving Rome and no more had come of age since. When the elder enlightened this information to the Roman leader, the man grinned wickedly and said, "We're not here for a boy this time, Sarmatian."

Annia frowned as her father's hand came to rest on her shoulder and he started pulling her back out of sight of the Romans. She wanted to ask what was happening but something told her to keep silent and just let her father lead her away. Her father then turned his back so that he was hiding her with his body, and Annia dared to hope that whatever he was trying to do he had succeeded.

"You there!"

Annia grimaced as her father's fingers dug into her shoulder, her blood running suddenly cold.

Without bringing her out of his shadow, her father turned slowly, knowing that he was the subject of the Roman's command.

Annia gripped her father's tunic as the Roman rode forward, sheer terror spreading into every nerve under her skin.

Her father locked eyes with the Roman as the horse stopped before him. The Roman nodded to the small child hidden behind the man.

"That little snippet belongs to us."

Annia let out a small whimper. The snippet was her. She was the one the Romans had come to fetch, not the boys that were doomed to repay a long passed debt.

"She is nothing to Rome." Her father's voice shook, she knew he was just as terrified as her.

"Oh but she is. She is the daughter of Laelia, is she not?"

Annia felt her chest constrict at the mention of her mother. That treasure was taken from Annia along with her baby brother not two seasons ago.

"She is, but why should her birth belong to Rome?"

Annia let out a cry as the soldier struck her father. "Insolent pagan! Your whore wife broke Rome's law when she eloped with your filthy tribe. Since she is no longer present to pay for that disgrace, her offspring is to pay it for her."

"No. You will not take my child! She is not a soldier-" another strike and Annia saw blood trickle down her father's top lip from his nose.

Annia stepped out from behind her father and stood facing the Roman, feigning a courage that was nowhere to be found just then.

"What will happen if I refuse to come?" the Roman recovered from his shock at being addressed by the wraith of a girl, and leered at her.

"Then your village will be burned to the ground, and then you will be taken anyway."

Ice filled Annia as she gazed at the tribe that stood before her. Her family. They had taken her and her father in despite the Roman presence in her blood, after their mother died and the Romans had come to their first tribe. She realized now that every time her father told her to pack a bag, it was because she had been discovered by Romans, and they wanted to take her. She had to do the same for her saviors now. She was tired of making her poor father run for his life.

"I will go with you."

"Annia!" the girl turned to her father, an old look of wisdom on her face that was unfit for a mere twelve year old. "Nada," at this nickname her father's eyes filled with tears, "I will come home one day. This shan't be the last we see of each other."

"You are not going, Annia. I will not have my only child sent to her death."

"And I will not let this tribe or my father come to harm because I am afraid of the same fate borne by brothers and sons before me."

Her father looked as if ready to argue, but Annia silenced him with a hug. Strong arms wrapped around her and pulled her close. Annia let the tears fall as she pulled away. Her father lifted her hand and slid a ring onto the middle finger. It hung loosely due to her still child-sized bones, but the gift still made Annia release a small sob.

After that the world blurred as she was dragged back to Roman group and placed on a horse, the cries of her tribe echoing long after they disappeared over the horizon. After many hours Annia dared to speak for the first time.

"Where is my destination… sir." She wanted an answer, and she knew she'd have to play the meek obedient child if she was to get it.

Sure enough, the Roman turned and said simply, "You are to be sent to Roman Britain, where you will complete a fifteen year service as a knight."

"I thought women weren't taken to be knights?"

"They're not. But a quick death didn't seem to suit the crime your mother committed."

Annia frowned at the sudden laughter of the other soldiers.

Now looking back, a quick death would truly have been the greater mercy.

"Annia? Annia… Annia!"

The knight in question snapped her head up, a blush creeping up her neck as she realized she had been daydreaming again during Arthur's meeting. Said knight could be seen clenching his teeth as he gazed at her. Annia was known for her short attention span, due to her inability to ever sit still, but it still grated on the commander's nerves when he was trying to organize a mission.

"Thank you for rejoining us, Annia." She glared as the other knights failed to suppress giggles, "I said that you and Tristan will scout and ensure safe passage for the entirety of the mission, is that understood?"

"Yes Arthur." She could have guessed that that would be her task. It was an unspoken rule really, Annia and Tristan were the scouts. They scouted. She honestly saw no benefit to being present for this meeting. Judging by the looks on her fellow knights' faces, all except Arthur and Dagonet, neither did they.

Once the meeting was closed, Annia tried to make a quick getaway to the stables, but a loud voice echoed through the hall, bringing her escape to a complete stop.

"So Nia, what were you thinking of today?!" Bors strolled up behind her and slung a heavy arm around her shoulders, causing her knees to bend slightly under the new weight.

"Oh, she was thinking of how pleasurable it would finally be to visit me this night." The owner of that licentious comment appeared on Annia's other side, and she glared at the smiling black eyes before turning her gaze back to the floor in front of her.

Truthfully she couldn't have said what she had been remembering, even if she wanted to. Fear of the reaction of the knights to her mixed heritage kept her life before Britain a secret. Arthur was half Roman too, but Annia still couldn't ever bring herself to say it out loud. Arthur knew her story because of the Romans' big mouths upon their meeting, having said quite politely, "Here's another little half breed bastard for you Arthur!"

Arthur, being the natural savior of the downcast as he was, had immediately taken her under his wing, introducing her to the others and making sure she was kept away from harm outside of training fields. It made no difference either way, all the knights had vowed repeatedly for many of their first months together that they would kill every Roman and Woad with their bare hands if they tried to touch her. Not to mention the fact that Annia was quite adept at protecting herself as the years wore on.

Those same knights now walked towards to the tavern, ready for an afternoon, and probably night, of drinking, gambling and bedding.

Annia followed obediently, listening to several conversations at once, when a hand touched her shoulder. Looking up she met dazzling blue eyes and her mood lifted just a fraction.

"Good morning, Annia."

"Good morning Gawain." She smiled at the blonde knight, his presence always making her grin even when she was ready to strangle something.

"So do you wish me to tell you what you missed during the meeting, even though you were there?"

She laughed, "Nah, I'd just fall asleep standing up."

Gawain let out a chuckle, a sound that vibrated deep in his chest.

By now the knights had reached the square where the tavern stood like a beacon for the soldiers sentenced to serve on this forsaken island, Roman and Sarmatian alike. Annia could feel her palms go slick as the crowd thickened, people filling the tavern for their midday meals.

Pulling back slightly, the other knights turned as her presence was suddenly gone from the group.

Gaheris frowned, "Are you not joining us, Nia?"

"Um…" Annia looked at the crowd again and shook her head, "Not just yet my friends. Perhaps later."

Galahad made a move to chase her back to the tavern entrance but Annia made a dash for the stables, not giving any of them a chance to drag her into that crush of bodies. If there was one thing Annia hated, it was crowds. She didn't know why, or when it had started, but her constant quest for solitude often had her gripping her temples in anxiety when she felt other people squashed against her in a crowded room.

Once in the stables Annia took several deep breaths. Her horse, Sarafax gave a loud stamp as she lingered in the doorway. Annia laughed as she walked deeper into the damp building, breathing in the smell of hay. Sarafax was probably the most magnificent creature Annia had ever seen. Relentlessly black, the stallion was fierce and headstrong, his size and aura alone was enough to scare any enemy, having grown considerably during their stay at the wall. But underneath that he was the most gentle and loving animal Annia could have hoped to call her own. As she stroked his neck and head lovingly, she started to sing quietly. Annia still didn't believe she had much singing talent, but she still loved to sing to Sarafax when it was just the two of them. Now she sang a song her aunt had taught about the seafaring men of old.

_A lone man by the sea shore at the end of day_

_Gazes the horizon with sea winds in his face_

_Tempest tossed island, seasons all the same_

_Anchorage unpainted and a ship without a name_

_The albatross is flying making him daydream_

_A time before he became one of the world's unseen_

_Princess in the tower, children in the field_

_Life gave him it all, an island of the universe_

_This is for all forgotten light at the end of the world_

_Horizon crying the tears he left behind long ago._

Annia's song was interrupted as the bastards burst into the stable. Six of the eleven had found her hideout and now she would be trapped for the rest of the day.

Despite the frigid winter lingering outside, the children still wanted Annia to go with them to the lake that was just outside of Hadrian's Wall, still a safe place to play. Annia was reluctant but when Bors insisted that she go, when she had managed to get him to look at her instead of just off to her left, she gave in and laughed as the bastards tugged on her hands.

For a long while the children played happily while Annia watched from under a tree.

They had been there for half the day, playing various games and singing songs. Annia gazed at them for the few moments they were ignoring her, thinking about what it would be like to be a mother.

To absolutely never as many as eleven, but still. To have a child look up at you with so much love and to have them run to you with tears in their eyes and you're the only one who can soothe them. To be the first person they think of when they've done something worth telling someone about.

The blood chilling sound of ice cracking filled Annia's ears. Turning she saw Five standing in the middle of the lake, small cracks spreading out from his little feet.

* * *

A/N: Song is "The Islander" by Nightwish and all credit and rights go to them.

_So I deviated BIG TIME by giving Tristan an OC as well, but I figured why not put my own spin on why he is so dark and moody all the time. I hope it's an ok version!_


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: Since it has now been 5 chapters I would just like to send a quick shout out to everyone who has read, followed and favourited this story, you guys are beyond awesome!_

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything besides the OC's you have and haven't met yet._

* * *

VI.

Annia wanted to retch, looking at the grey color of the ice. It would not hold him for long. Annia turned to remaining five children, sending them off to get help. Then she turned back to Five and took a treacherous step onto the ice, feeling it creak under her weight.

Five was still frozen, terror clear on his face. Annia did her best to remain calm, smiling at Five to try and ease his fears. As she got closer the ice started to crack under her feet as well. She wasn't close enough to him yet, and even if she could get to him what would she do? She couldn't carry him off that would be doubly stupid.

Then she smiled.

"It's alright Five, everything's going to be alright. I'm coming to get you, you're going to be just fine."

"Nia, I'm scared."

"I know you are, sweet, but don't be. We're going to play a game, alright?"

"Huh?"

Despite the dangerous and horrifying situation they were in, Annia smiled at the child's incredulousness.

"That's right, boy. We're going to play hop scotch."

"We can't play a game we'll fall!" he was wailing now, tears dripping onto the fast breaking floor. Annia wanted to cry too, for fear of losing this boy to the frozen water. He would never survive this, but maybe she would.

"Five, listen to me now. I want you to lift your foot off the ice, alright?"

"I can't!"

"You have to, sweet, it's the only way we'll get you out of there. Do you trust me, Five?"

The boy sniffled, "Yes, Nia."

"Then believe me when I say I will get you out of there."

Slowly the young one lifted his foot, the ice cracking again. Annia let out a breath as it held.

"That's a boy. Now see if you can put it down where there are no cracks." Annia wondered how her voice was so calm. She was shaking inside. Where the hell were the others, how long did it take to scream help?!

Five looked to his side and when he saw where the ice hadn't cracked yet he put his foot down. The ice held. Annia took a few more steps forward, her own breathing shallow and raspy.

"That's my lad Five, now lift your other foot." The boy did as he was told. Once again the ice held as he put his foot down. Just as Annia reached him, the ice cracked again. Without thinking Annia grabbed Five's hand and swung him back towards the solid ground with every ounce of strength she had, seeing him land awkwardly on the earth, a group of men rushing towards them and the world slipped above her as the ice broke and the liquid ice beneath swallowed her up.

* * *

The tavern was alive with shouts and the sound of tankards being filled and dropped. The midday noise was somewhat deafening. Good thing the knights were just as rowdy, easily hearing each other over the din. While Lancelot, Galahad and Bors indulged in a game of dice, the rest of knights ate quietly, filling up for the afternoon practice session. Gawain grinned as he thought of what the afternoon would bring, Galahad would no doubt be looking to avenge the pride Annia damaged yesterday as she rendered him beaten twice in a row.

As always Gawain's palms went slick as he thought of the woman. Being the only female knight, she was coddled and fussed over for many of the first months the group had spent together. Until Annia proved her ability to care for herself. As the years wore on and girl grew to woman, Gawain had only too happily indulged in her new found appeal.

Since their first mission and after she had basically saved his life, Annia had changed in Gawain's eyes. She'd become human, someone to care for and someone who could care for others.

It had been another year before he'd claimed her the first time. She hadn't been the first, but every time Lancelot joked about being Annia's first lover, Gawain couldn't help but grin at the thought that that was no longer Lancelot's privilege.

But as with all his conquests, Gawain had let the spark die before it could become anything meaningful. Annia hadn't made much effort to try and rekindle the brief romance, seeming to accept that a proper relationship was just not something Gawain cared to pursue. At the time he was relieved to learn she wasn't like some of the town wenches that actually expected you to talk to them the next day. How he regretted it! Every time he saw some other man touch her arm or whisper in her ear he wanted to rip their throats out. He even harbored a searing jealousy for Tristan, who seemed to share an uncharacteristically close bond with Annia. The man only ever smiled when she did. And yet there was never an announcement that Annia had been claimed, or gods forbid, had become betrothed, and their friendship had only grown.

Gawain looked around the tavern as a roar of laughter echoed through his ears. Lancelot had obviously won a great deal of money, again, and Bors was not happy.

Just as both knights stood, a shrill scream pierced the already loud tavern.

All heads turned to the source of the cry, one of Bors' bastards standing in the doorway, fear and desperation clear on his face. Gawain noticed about four more of the brood standing not too far away.

"PAPA!" the child shouted again, Bors looking a little more than confused at the outburst.

"What Seven?" he said as he strode towards the group.

"It's Five, he's on the lake and it's breaking! Nia's trying to get him and she said to get help."

It only took about three seconds for all five knights to be up and running out the tavern, Jols following and displaying his intellect as he shouted for one of the children to help him fetch furs.

Gawain ran with the four, his heart suddenly hammering. If they didn't get there in time…

He didn't even want to consider it.

As the lake came into view, all the knights' worst fears came to be. There was little Five, lying awkwardly on solid ground, screaming as a figure with blonde hair was dragged into the frigid lake.

Several shouts erupted as Annia disappeared into the water.

Having spent many winters here, the knights knew what to do, but gods willing they were fast enough!

In all of two seconds, Galahad was walking precariously on the ice, the smallest knight being only one able to fetch the woman, with a rope wrapped around his waist and gripped by the other men on the shore. As he neared, Gawain noticed a hand breach the surface and grope blindly for something to hold onto. He wanted to scream at Galahad to hurry up, but that would do nothing but get them both killed. The pup needed to get her out of there, he had to!

As the knight reached the hole, he plunged his hand into the water, letting out a groan as the chill enveloped his arm up to his shoulder. For several heartbeats there was nothing but silence as Galahad's hand searched the water. Gawain didn't ever pray, but his whole being screamed for her to just touch Galahad's hand once! Lancelot started mumbling behind him, voicing his will for her survival more than the rest of the knights. Five screamed her name. Galahad let out a frustrated cry.

Then time seemed to speed up as Galahad shouted to pull, yanking his arm out the water. Gawain let out a shout as he saw a hand gripping Galahad's, Annia's arm, shoulder and head following.

All four knights heaved Galahad back as he pulled the girl out of the lake, dragging them relentlessly over the ice until both were on solid ground. Then it was just a blur as furs were laid out on the ground and an unconscious Annia was stripped out of her wet clothes and placed on the fur, several more wrapping her up. Gawain stared at the bundle in horror, Annia's blue skin making his own body go cold, little icicles already forming in her hair. By that time Dagonet had joined them and was shouting orders as he carried the frozen woman back to the fort.

In the infirmary, all tasks were directed at re-warming Annia before her body shut down. Her breathing was already shallow, her heartbeat barely there.

The room filled as people brought in cloths and buckets of hot water, all being placed around Annia's bed. Dagonet began placing the cloths under Annia's arms, on her legs and around her neck.

Then he looked at the knights all watching with baited breath. Each of them, Lancelot, Tristan, Gaheris and Gawain were desperate for the girl to just open her blasted eyes!

"She needs skin to skin heat."

Gawain's stomach twisted at the meaning of those few simple words.

"Hot cloths will only do so much, she's lost too much body heat."

The three looked at each other, and Gawain scowled as Lancelot stepped forward, his hands already reaching for the ties on his tunic.

"Well, if Dagonet insists."

Gawain's hand latched onto the man's shoulder and pulled him back, "You would enjoy that far too much, Lancelot."

"Indeed I would, but the situation necessitates it."

"Absolutely not." The blonde knight all but growled. Tristan remained silent.

"And while you two ladies are bickering, Annia is dying!" Dagonet's voice was like a whip.

Lancelot smirked and stepped back, allowing Gawain the pleasure of saving Annia's life.

Having removed his tunic and undershirt, the knight moved to slip in next to the girl, but once again Dagonet's voice interrupted his actions.

"Everything, Gawain."

The knight couldn't help the blush that crept up his neck. He heard snickers and turned an acrid stare on Lancelot. For once, the dark haired knight was able to act accordingly, and he and Tristan left without a word.

* * *

There were very few times when complete and utter nothingness took over Annia's mind. It made her shiver to think about that kind of void, unable to do anything, to think anything. It must have been what death was like. Which is why for a few seconds, when a white light took over the black, Annia thought she had left the realm of the living.

But then the visions came, children playing in a white world, one of them running over a flat piece of ground, that ground opening up and swallowing him. Terror gripped Annia as the visions changed, each becoming more terrifying than the last. The final attack was that she had fallen into the water and was able to pull herself back to the surface, only to have souls of the men she had killed drag her back under, pulling at her clothes and hair and clawing her skin, their faces twisted into misshapen monsters.

Her scream filled her ears and echoed through the vision, her world shaking and twisting.

All at once the horrors disappeared and her eyes flew open, light blinding her, and her hands going out to scratch the eyes out of whoever was gripping her so tightly.

Before her nails could gouge any flesh, she heard a voice cut through her hysteria.

"Nia, stop you're safe now. Calm yourself, lass."

After several breaths that made her lungs burn like fire, Annia looked up at the face that was mere inches from hers. Blue eyes met green and her fear and fight fled, leaving her limp in Gawain's arms.

He started rubbing her back soothingly, murmuring calming things in her ear. Tears slipped out of Annia's eyes as she remembered what had happened. The lake, the water.

"F-F-Five?" her voice wasn't even a whisper.

"He's safe, Annia. You saved him."

She gave a small smile, and snuggled closer to the tawny-haired knight's warmth. Then sense kicked in and she moved away slightly, blushing furiously as she realized exactly why she was suddenly so warm. The wanton part of her mind thought snidely, _well, it's not like we haven't seen each other in this state of undress before._ The rational side, however, was outraged.

Gawain simply shrugged at her incredulous look, "It was the only way to keep you from freezing to death. Now get back over here, you're not done thawing yet."

She considered telling him to take a flying leap, and get out of her bed, but the heat between them was just too tempting. Besides, he was right, she was still cold.

Letting out a sigh, Annia slid back into the knight's arms, putting her face in his neck.

For this one brief moment, she would forget etiquette, wrapping her arms around his torso, and ignore her reluctance to display any sort of physical affection. She forced herself to move past the fact that this was Gawain she was clinging to like a child, and just let her thoughts go quiet, sleep presenting a blissful relief from her embarrassment.

* * *

_Reviews send me to my happy place!_


	7. Chapter 7

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything except Annia and any other characters you've never met before._

_Enjoy!_

VII.

For this one brief moment, he would forget etiquette, grinning as she wrapped her arms around his torso, and ignore his reluctance to display any sort of physical affection. He forced himself to move past the fact that this was Annia that was clinging to him like a child, and just watched her go quiet, sleep erasing any signs of her embarrassment.

His hand went to her back and she tensed out of habit, even in her sleep. He had discovered the marks that marred her back a long time ago, his face twisted in anger as he realized what had happened in her past.

Her only answer had been simply, "Let's just say I wasn't entirely cooperative on my journey here."

She had shrugged it off, reassuring him that despite their grisly appearance they didn't hurt. But her eyes could never lie to him, ghosts of that day swirling in the green orbs. Even now they still caused a reaction when he touched them. How she hadn't died from the pain alone was still lost on him. At least the colour had lightened, a sign that they would maybe one day be forgotten entirely. When she was sixteen and he had seen them for the first time, they were a kind of angry red that didn't belong on such pretty skin, their crisscrossing pattern making him shudder as he thought of each mark being created. The young girl was clearly far tougher than anyone thought.

Gawain remained with her for a few more hours, the respite from life calming his mind. On more than occasion he caught himself imagining that he and Annia were in his chambers, and that she wasn't next to him and naked out of preservation of her life.

Dagonet came to check on her several times during her sleep. The man blatantly avoided checking anything that was covered by the fur as he felt her forehead, neck and wrist for a pulse.

On the third check he said Gawain could go. The knight all but leapt out of the bed, dressing faster than he could ever remember.

Trying to sneak back to his room, and not attracting any attention, proved impossible as soon as he stepped out of the infirmary, the sun already sitting on the horizon. Lancelot, Galahad and Bors were waiting outside the door.

Lancelot was the first to speak, "Well, how's Annia?" but Gawain knew the look on the insufferable man's face meant _how much did you enjoy your cuddle-time?_

"She's fine, apart from some ice burns on her hands, Dag says she'll make a full recovery."

"Thank the gods for that." Bors said in a sigh. Gawain had rarely seen such relief and affection from the burly knight. Apart from when the man spoke of his family.

"Can we see her?" Galahad stepped forward, meaning to enter the infirmary. Gawain stopped him with a shake of his head.

"She's still sleeping, cub. We'll have to see what Dag says when she wakes."

Lancelot shrugged and turned, calling over his shoulder to go to the tavern.

"In celebration of our hero, Gawain!" oh, if looks could kill.

"Hey, I'm the one that fished her out of the water!" Galahad followed, pulling Gawain with him. In truth, a night spent at the tavern was the last thing Gawain had in mind. But as his head still swam with thoughts of Annia lying so close to him, a night spent drinking wasn't such a bad idea after all. Especially if Soairse was working there that night.

* * *

Recovery was slow, too slow. Annia was already a restless woman, but forced to lie in a bed all day without even any visitors was doing her head in. It had only been an hour since she woke up, but already she knew for a fact that there were eighty three bottles on the shelf on the wall across from her, thirty two bowls and three pitchers. There were only so many hours one could spend sleeping.

Relief came when Dagonet said she could have visitors. The first were Bors, Vanora and their children. Five was through the door first.

Annia was signing a song quietly to herself when the lad came into the infirmary, alone.

She looked at him and smiled, sitting up and patting the bed for him to sit. He hopped onto the bed, and looked at her with tears in his eyes.

"Hello, Five. How's my brave lad?"

Annia let out a gasp as the child threw his arms around her and wept. Rubbing his back gently, Annia muttered soothing nothings in his ear, willing him to cease his sobs. For the love of peace it was making her eyes sting.

When he eventually quieted Annia pulled him off her and sat him down, staring into his eyes.

"Why the tears, Five?"

The child sniffed, "You nearly died because of me, Nia."

Annia cringed as she realized just how much guilt this poor boy must have been holding inside.

"Now, none of that, Five. I won't let you blame yourself for what happened."

She smoothed his hair from his face and put her hands on his cheeks, smiling warmly.

"I don't blame you, Five. It could have so easily been anyone. It wasn't your fault. I'm just glad that you're alright."  
The boy nodded slightly, and a small smile crept onto his face. He wrapped himself around her again and said quietly, "I love you, Nia."

Despite the warmth Annia felt at the child's admission, she couldn't bring herself to say it back. No ears would hear it besides Five's so it wasn't embarrassment that kept her from showing the boy some affection. It was the pure fact that Annia just didn't say things like that, it wasn't in her to be loving and tender. Not even when she and Gawain…

"There, there lad. It's over now." she was heartless and she knew it.

The rest of the family walked in then, all giving her big hugs and thanking her for saving their brother. Then Vanora ushered the children out and Bors sat on the chair next to her bed. Annia smiled at the knight, wondering what it is he wanted to say to her.

The man reached out took her hand in his huge ones, making Annia frown for a second.

He looked into her eyes then, sadness and gratitude showing.

"You saved my boy's life, Annia. I can't ever repay you for that."

"Bors, don't. There's no need to thank me. It was pot luck I was there."

The man opened his mouth to argue, but Annia cut him off, "You've said your thanks, Bors. Now go, enjoy your family." Though the words were harsh, she said them with uncharacteristic gentleness.

Bors smiled, stood and gave her a brief hug.

Left alone once again, Annia was more than a little confused. If her nearly dying was cause for all of these hardened knights to become human, well… she was damn well going to do everything she could to make sure she lived forever.

* * *

The tavern was full, as usual, and Annia was tempted to turn on her heel and run for her chambers. But she missed the knights and was eager to see if the rest of them had softened in their worry for her life. Bors had been the only one to visit her, mostly due to the fact that Dagonet released her shortly afterwards. The gentle giant had rolled his eyes when, in answer to his warning not to do anything strenuous, Annia had said, "Does that include a visit to the tavern?"

She had only spent a day in recovery, her body regaining its strength quickly once it had thawed, but she had that nagging feeling that the day was wasted in idleness. Annia should have spent the day helping the knights prepare for the trip north, she felt guilty for not being there.

Now she was fighting the nerves as she pushed through the crowds to the bar, smiling at the barmaid, Saoirse if memory recalled, and fetching a drink. As she waited, she crept behind the bar and grabbed an apple from the basket. Not a heartbeat later, just as she bit down, a raucous cheer erupted behind her and she turned to see Galahad striding towards her, looking about ready to snuff the life he had helped save. Before Annia could even take the fruit out of her mouth, he had his arms around her and was squeezing her until her spine cracked. The fact that the man was roaring drunk and unsteady on his feet didn't help much.

"Don't you ever, _ever_ do that again do you hear me?!"

Annia reached up and pulled the apple out of her mouth, "Alright, cub, calm yourself." When he didn't let go she huffed, "Really, get off!"

Galahad let go, making her stumble slightly, and pulled her towards the knights' table.

The others looked just as thrilled to see her, all rising as she approached. One by one they embraced the woman, making several remarks and jokes about her inability to determine the thickness of ice.

When Lancelot put his arm around her shoulders, practically squashing her, he said loudly, "I was worried I'd have to start wooing women that actually liked me!"

Annia looked at the dark haired knight and grinned, "As if you could find one."

The table erupted into laughter as Annia was given a place to sit, food and drink pushed in front of her. Annia let out a groan. Her appetite had been effectively non-existent since the accident, and she couldn't bear to even look at the bowl of rich stew for more than a few seconds.

Pushing it to the side slightly, she picked up her tankard and sipped the drink, listening to everything the knights were telling her had happened in her absence. Annia noticed the blonde knight was unusually quiet that night, despite being as intoxicated as the others. He was a laughing drinker, his guffaw becoming louder and more incessant the more ale he threw down his throat. But tonight the man was relatively silent. Annia didn't really blame him, she couldn't look at the man without feeling her gut twist and a blush threaten to explode on her cheeks. The real puzzle was _why_?

They _knew_ each other, and that had never made things awkward before. Not like this.

Now it was almost as if he were afraid of insulting her honor or something, which was a bit of a late concern on his part, and truth be told it infuriated her. Why did things have to change now? Why after so many years of an uncomplicated friendship did he have to pull this?

Annia was yanked out of her inner tirade when Tristan seated himself next her, putting an arm around her shoulders and ignoring the comments that followed from the other knights. It was known that Tristan had a soft spot for Annia, treating her more like a sister than any of the others did. She leaned into his embrace and smiled when he said, "Thought the realm of the dead had you there for a moment."

Sitting up, Annia looked around the table again, stopping when her gaze met the murderous look on Gawain's face. His gaze was so intense she turned her eyes to her hands that rested on the table.

Now she was just confused. She decided then to drown her inner turmoil in ale, gulping down a tankard in one breath, and reached for another.

"Arthur!"

Everyone's heads turned as the commander walked into the tavern, smiling as he found their table. Striding over he motioned for Annia to stand, wrapping his arms around her in a brotherly gesture. She and Arthur were close and all but, like most of the day had been, she was surprised at the affection he displayed for everyone to see.

"Thank you for what you did, Annia."

"Just did what anyone would have, Arthur."

Just then music filled the tavern and a few of the people started a dance.

Galahad stood and said loudly, "Finally a lively tune! Come, Nia."

"Aaw, no Galahad." But it was no use. The cub's hand wrapped around hers and yanked her out of her seat, dragging her over to the other dancers.

Annia wasn't much of a dancer, but then few people here were, so after a few moments she forgot to care what she looked like and just let Galahad spin her around again and again.

By the time she had to stop about four songs had played and she staggered to the table to douse her dry tongue. Gawain hadn't moved from his spot since the music began and, if it was even possible, he looked even more depressed.

Annia couldn't take it anymore so she placed her forearms on the table and leaned closer to him.

"What is weighing on you so heavily, Gawain?"

The knight smirked slightly, and shook his head, "Just one of those days."

"Well snap out of it!"

"Or what?" he was leaning slightly closer now, with a playful look on his face.

"Or I'm going to hit you."

"I hardly think you'd be a match for-"

His words were cut off as Annia sprung forward and swung her hand, cuffing him on the side of his head before he could even blink. The woman burst into a hysterical fit of laughter as he sat back up and moved his hair out of his face that she had messed up with her strike.

"Ow."

Which only made her laugh harder.

Amazingly he hadn't spilled his ale. It seemed to be a natural gift they all possessed.

Eventually he started laughing too. Annia reached forward and touched her tankard to his and turned to watch the rest of the tavern's happenings.

Galahad came barreling towards them and fell onto Annia's lap, probably due to the fact that the chair next to her that he meant to take was moving as he walked towards it. Either that or he was no doubt seeing three chairs instead of one, and Annia laughed as she helped him up.

"I think it's time you went to bed, cub."

"Only if you take me, sweet Nia." His words were joined into one big slur. Annia laughed as the man slumped forward, looking about ready to pass out.

Slinging his arm around her shoulders, Annia pulled him to the door.

Before she got far though, a hand came to rest on her shoulder. Meeting his blue gaze, Gawain pulled Galahad off Annia and said he'd take him.

Galahad let out a protest, "I want Nia to!"

Shrugging Annia followed the pair through the streets, trying not to listen to Galahad singing far too loudly. Once Galahad was deposited safely in bed, Annia was faced with incredibly disheartening situation of being alone with Gawain without a rowdy tavern to distract them. After his behavior that night, she had no idea how to act around him, despite their joking around just before Galahad fell on her. But she realized she could be just as infuriating if she was polite to the man, getting a little taste for revenge just then.

"I never got a chance to thank you, Gawain, for what you did." His face remained composed, his emotions well hidden. Annia realized she wasn't going to win this one. _Best to just leave with whatever dignity I have left_. She would get him back in training the next day.

"Good night."

Before he could crush her spirits further, Annia turned and fled, all but sprinting for her room.

* * *

_Review?_


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: Thank you SO much to __Ms. MidnightGoddess__ for my first review it meant the world to me! And a big hug and kiss for everyone who continues to read and (hopefully) enjoy this story. _

_This chapter is dedicated to EVERYONE! :-)_

_Disclaimer: Alas I cannot afford the rights to anything you recognise from King Arthur, I must console myself with just owning Annia._

_ENJOY you awesome readers! _

VIII.

The arrow met the centre of the target with a satisfying thwack. Annia grinned as she claimed victory over Galahad… again.

"Ten out of ten shots, cub. What say you?"

"I say anyone can hit a target with both eyes open."

The woman smirked, "You couldn't." resulting in a very cold glare from Galahad and laughter from any of the knights within ear shot. There were only four of them out today, Tristan, Dag and Gawain out on patrol.

Annia couldn't have been happier to be back in training. It was the only thing she was able to focus on for more than ten minutes, and it kept her mind occupied. The knights, and the reinforcements, left in the morning and she was a little excited.

The cub stepped up and rubbed his beard, a contemplative look on his face.

This couldn't be good.

"Let's make this interesting, shall we?"

With that he stepped forward and placed a blindfold over Annia's eyes. The woman was stunned at this new development.

"Have you lost your mind, Galahad I could kill someone!"

"Don't worry we'll warn you if you're about to hit something that breathes."

By now she could feel the presence of the other knights as they gathered to watch, their curiosity overpowering their training.

"Now, just one more thing." Annia gasped as she was spun several times, her perception of where the target was being thrown off completely.

"Whenever you're ready, Nia." Galahad's voice oozed with his assured win. Annia scowled at she didn't know what, and took a moment.

There was no way she could win this one. But then something dawned on her.

Slowly the woman turned, painstakingly slowly if Galahad had any say. He had said for her to take her time, but this was absurd. But that was Annia, she would never simply just admit her shortcomings.

"Come on, lady."

Slowly Annia raised the bow, arrow knocked, and waited again, feeling what she was looking for on every inch of her skin. Finally a deep breath could be heard and arrow was let loose.

Ripping off the blindfold, Annia saw with disappointment that it had just hit the target, another inch and it would have ended up in the grass.

She sighed, turning to accept her defeat, and saw flabbergasted expressions on her fellow knights' faces. She frowned as they continued to stare between her and the target.

"What?"

Galahad shook his head, "How-how the _hell_ did you do that?!"

"What are you talking about, I missed the centre."

Galahad let out a bark of disbelieving laughter.

"Nia, you were facing that way." Galahad pointed in the almost opposite direction of the target.

Annia still didn't see what all the fuss was about, "Oh."

"Oh?!" he threw his hands in the air and looked at her as if she was mental unstable, "Not even Tristan could have made that shot!"

"I'm pretty sure Tristan, or any knight for that matter would not have been desperate enough to win to try."

"The point is Nia… how did you do that?"

"I just remembered what parts of my body were in the sun and turned until it was like that again."

Galahad just blinked.

Then his eyes darted up, and a small smile spread on his lips. "Again."

Annia rolled her eyes, she would never attest the fact that this cub was determined.

Letting the blindfold be placed on her eyes again, Annia waited for the world to still as she was spun.

Standing still as she had, she waited for the sun to warm her motionless form. But it didn't come.

Instead the world seemed to get darker through the fabric covering her eyes. Instead of warmth, the air turned a fraction colder, even in the dead of winter.

Dark… cold.

"No." suddenly Annia's hands were shaking and her throat closed up.

"Nia?" she heard the voice, but it sounded a million leagues away. As memories took over Annia's mind she became more and more unresponsive, her arrow sliding from her fingers while the grip on the bow became nearly shattering.

"Nia!" hands gripped her shoulders and Annia let out a shriek swinging her bow, connecting with something. The grip loosened and she stumbled back onto the ground. It felt like she was drowning in the ice lake all over again, hands of dead men grabbing her.

Suddenly the darkness was gone and Annia blinked. Her wrists were in a vice grip, holding her in place. Once her vision cleared she saw the knights surrounding her, Lancelot holding her hands while the others were ready to grab anything if she struck out again.

Looking to the cub, Annia's heart dropped as she saw the welt on his face. She looked back to Lancelot who took her face in his hands.

"Nia, you're safe. Hush now." tears streamed down her face as she slumped forward, putting her head on her knees. "What's wrong with me?"

Nobody answered as Lancelot lifted her up, taking her back to the fort. Annia tried to ignore the stares the pair received, the sight of a Sarmatian knight being carried through the streets something the people were not greeted with often. As she tried to keep her eyes shut, she heard horses passing and a voice ask, "What happened?" was that anger?

"She's exhausted."

"In winter?" she could just picture the look on Gawain's face if the skepticism in his voice was anything to go by, making her shrink further into Lancelot's arms.

The dark-haired knight shrugged, "Stranger things have happened."

Without waiting for an answer, the knight continued to the fort, calling for someone to fetch Arthur.

Annia grimaced, the last thing she wanted then was to be faced with the commander. Fear was still threading itself through her nerves. Her skin was sensitive, burning in all the places that her clothes touched, her chest hurt and she could feel a sheen of sweat coat her body.

She didn't know why this had happened, she had recovered! But as she remembered what she had felt like in that dark, the blindfold blocking the light, and the sudden cold that came from a _cloud_, it was all she could do not to collapse and scream. And then she had struck Galahad when he tried to help her. She'd have to find him later and apologize. But first, all she wanted to do was sleep.

Arthur arrived in Annia's room not long after Lancelot had put her to bed. The knight hadn't listened to her insistence that she was fine, he had just more or less dropped her on the mattress and told her to take her boots off, pouring water for her from her nightstand.

The commander looked a little more than concerned. Once he pulled a chair next to her bed, Lancelot left, giving the pair some privacy. Arthur asked if he could get her food. Once again Annia grimaced at the thought of putting anything besides water in her mouth.

Arthur turned to her then, "Tell me, Nia."

The woman sighed, there was no point in hiding what she was feeling, not from Arthur. The man could read all of his knights like a book.

"I've killed people, Arthur. I've watched life drain away in a pool of blood, eyes staring at me as they go dark. I've spent fifteen years taking life, protecting mine and my brothers'. I have felt fear before, many times, I don't understand why this is happening to me."

The knight gazed her with a very pensive look on his face. Annia never spoke of her inner demons, it was something they all pushed to the back of their minds out of necessity. It had never bothered her before to think about her actions, knowing full well that the men she killed wouldn't think twice about doing the same to her. It kept the nightmares away. But a mere fall into cold water had rendered her completely powerless and riddled with anxiety. She should be stronger than this!

"Perhaps it was the first time in your life that you couldn't help yourself, Nia."

She looked at him, then. It made sense. Sinking under the water, trying desperately to swim through the ice that was taking over her body, Annia had been seized with the thought that she was helpless. She _needed_ someone's help. And for a few terrifying moments she believed it wasn't going to come and she was going to die.

"I can't be this weak, Arthur. I'm a knight."

"You're also human, Annia. Things happen that we can't control, and sometimes the scars are deep. You forget this only happened two days ago. I'm sure we'd all be worried if you weren't still struggling with the experience." He took her hand then, "Give it time, Annia. It's alright to show fear every now and then. Perhaps you shouldn't go on the mission tomorrow. Maybe it's still too soon?"

"No. I'll not abandon my brothers just because I had a little episode. Besides I'll go insane sitting around the fort for who knows how long worrying about you lot."

"Very well Annia. I respect your decision. And just know, your brothers are here for you."

Annia smiled and glanced at the door when it opened. Gawain walked in with a tray, standing with it as he waited for Arthur to stand and leave, after he gave Annia's shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

Once the door shut, Annia smirked at the tawny-haired knight as he set the tray down on her bed and took the seat Arthur had left.

"So they're making you play barmaid now, are they?"  
"I volunteered. I wanted to make sure you were alright."

Annia could hear in his voice that his ignorance with the incident had been resolved.

_No doubt thanks to Galahad and his big mouth._

"So, I assume you know it wasn't exhaustion." The knight shook his head.

"Galahad told Dagonet and I what happened, that you just froze up."

"Could have guessed he would be the first to tell." Annia could feel the heat in her face and neck, the tips of her fingers starting to tingle. The shame of her episode nearly outweighed the fear.

Gawain leaned forward in his chair and stared at her, and despite her shame she was unable to look away from him. He looked so gentle, and sympathetic.

"You don't need to worry, Annia. I don't see you any different now, just because you've proven that you're human."

"But knights aren't human are they? Not according to everyone else."

"Well, then we show everyone differently."

He pulled the tray closer to her, took a cup that was steaming and held it out to her.

"I don't need it, Gawain. But thank you."

The knight shook his head, "You've barely eaten in two days, Annia. You won't be much use to us if you really do drop from exhaustion."

The woman sighed and surrendered, sipping at the broth that was far too salty. How much else had she failed to hide from her brothers?

When she'd finished, she nodded to the second cup, "What's that?"

Again it was presented to her with little room for protest.

"This is from Dagonet. He said it would help you sleep."

Annia was a lot less reluctant to swallow this concoction. It took all of five minutes before her head started to feel heavy. Gawain gave a small smile as she yawned widely, picking up the tray and moving to the door.

"Where do you think you're going?"

He turned with a quizzical expression, and Annia wanted to kick herself. She was supposed to be mad at this man, why was she practically begging him to stay with her now?!

"You need to sleep." Well, no use trying to salvage her pride now.

"Won't you stay?"

For a heartbeat she hoped he would refuse. But then he put the tray on the table and retook his seat, crossing his arms.

Now what?

But Annia didn't have long to fully appreciate the awkwardness of her request. Another wave of tiredness washed over her, and she slid until she was lying down, snuggling into her pillow.

* * *

_A/N: The target practice scene was kind of fantastical and farfetched, I know. Buuut I figured if Tristan could shoot that scout out the tree just before the big battle, then Annia can shoot blindfolded._

_Reviews really do send me to my happy place!_


	9. Chapter 9

_Disclaimer: No matter how much I may wish otherwise, I don't own King Arthur. But Annia is all mine._

_Enjoy lovely people!_

IX.

What in the name of all things natural was happening to him?!

Gawain did _not_ act this way. Women never had this effect on him, the thought of being tied to one woman forever made him shudder.

But that was until Annia.

That was until he realized he cared for her more than he had been believing these last few years. Watching her sleep, allowing himself a few moments to just look at her peaceful face before reality took over again, Gawain couldn't help but wonder how things would have different if he had just told her back then what he knew now. But instead, his stupidity and pride got in the way and he had let her get away. Even the sight of Lancelot carrying her through to the fort had filled him with burning envy for the dark-haired knight.

He had lost his chance. He had proven to Annia that there would never be anything real between them, and now he wanted it more than anything.

As he thought about what was, Gawain began contemplating what could be. Maybe if he could show her he was willing, she'd come to him.

It was unlikely, but it was better than doing nothing and slowly going insane. Their discharge was short of a year away. He promised himself she would be his by then. He smiled at the thought of maybe having a companion to travel home with after all.

* * *

The knights seemed to have unanimously agreed not to say anything about the events of the morning when Annia arrived at the tavern for dinner. The knights present all greeted her with smiles as always and Annia settled into a pleasant conversation with them about Lancelot's escapades the previous night.

Apparently the man had managed to lift the skirt of a Roman's wife. Now she was determined to leave her husband for the licentious knight.

The knight in question was menacingly quiet, his plate positively steaming from the intense gaze he was giving it.

Annia saw her chance for some fun as she laughed at Lancelot's plight.

"Now, Lancelot did I not tell you that all your whoring would come back and bite you in the ass one day?"

Galahad, Bors and Dagonet laughed. Lancelot turned a wry smile to Annia, "Well, when my _whoring_ proves fruitless I'll be sure to pay you a visit, Nia."

"Haven't succeeded in fifteen years, lad. You're not getting it right now!"

More laughter ensued and Annia grinned. She was back.

The sound of the cub laughing made Annia turn to him then, he was sitting at the end of the table on the other side. Ignoring the jests she knew would come, Annia got up and moved to sit next to him, taking his hand in a mock show of remorse and affection.

The knight turned to her then and when Annia caught sight of the bruise on his cheek, all her humor evaporated.

"Oh, Galahad, can you ever forgive me?"

"Calm yourself, Nia. I've had worse than this. You insult of our honor as knights when you go all soft like that." She gaped at him in shock.

"Well… shove it then!"

The cub laughed and put his arm around Annia, laughing loudly at her dig as he pulled her into his chest as if she was a child. The woman couldn't help but giggle. Galahad really knew how to wind her up.

She cringed as he shouted to Gawain and Tristan who had just walked in, making her ears ring. Sitting up Annia said good evening to the two men, gratefully accepting the apple that was tossed at her from Tristan.

Biting down Annia shifted up to make space for the last of her brothers. She only frowned for a second when it was Gawain that seated himself next to her.

"Sleep well?" his gaze was penetrating and Annia couldn't ignore the meaning behind his words.

"I am well rested." In other words: _I don't think I'll be having another hysterical fit any time soon, thanks for asking._

Gawain nodded, and gripped her hand briefly under the table before placing his on the surface so casually it made her wonder if she had imagined the gesture.

As the evening progressed and everyone was practically falling over their feet, Galahad truly outdid his idiocy in Annia's eyes.

Turning to the woman, he slurred loudly, "So who've us do you loves most, Niaaaa?"

She let out a chortle and gripped his chin in her hand, shaking his squished face a few times, "Oh it's only you, my little cub!"

He pulled from her embrace and toppled off his chair. Reaching down she tried to pull him up, but was seized with fits of laughter. Unable to help the mess on the floor, Annia settled for taking another swig of ale. On her other side, Gawain managed to pull the still giggling knight back onto his chair, his own laughter mixing into the noise of the tavern.

Once back on his chair, Galahad continued his ridiculous conversation, "Honestly, lass. Are you saying truthfully you wouldn't kiss any of us?" the sentence being followed by a loud belch.

Rubbing a hand over her numb face, Annia sighed loudly, looking at the three other red faces that were grinning at her from across the table, Tristan just sitting quietly in the corner. "Not a chance, Galahad. You're all a bunch of scoundrels!"

"You're one of us too, Nia." Lancelot's voice was muffled by the chest he was resting his head on. Soairse certainly was versatile.

"Indeed but I'm the better version."

"Well I bet a whole copper you don't have the guts!"

"This directed at a Sarmatian knight?"

"Coward!" Galahad grinned. Really, was he never going to tire of making bets with Annia? He should know by now she'd never back down from a challenge.

"Name the unlucky knight, cub!"

Galahad let out a victorious shout and put his head in his hands, resting his elbows on the table top.

"Let us see now, Tristan? No, don't want you to lose an eye… Lancelot's clearly occupied… Gawain!

Pucker up, my man."

Annia went cold. Was a copper really worth it?

Gawain let out a small sound of shock, choking on the ale he had just poured into his mouth.

"What about Gaheris?" alright, that was definitely an insult to Annia's pride. Now he was reluctant just to kiss her?!

Galahad looked down the table and smirked, "Gaheris is sleeping."

All knights present looked at the slumbering fool, a tankard still clutched in his hand.

After giving Galahad a positively murderous glare, Annia turned to see a slight blush creeping up Gawain's neck. That at least made her smile in triumph.

"Would you mind, Sir?"

He hesitated a moment and then shrugged, reaching out for her. The man didn't just kiss her. In a dramatic flair he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her until she was basically lying in his lap. Roars erupted from the table as he returned Annia to her original position.

Annia smiled to hide the feelings that had boiled up as soon as her lips touched Gawain's, bringing back too many memories.

"Pay up!" holding out her hand, Annia grinned as Galahad dropped the coin into her palm. Then she felt the need to flee, and stood on unsteady feet to walk to the bar.

Before she did though, she turned back to Galahad and held her arms up in triumph.

"It's about time you learn to stop making bets with me Galahad. I will _always_ win."

She felt eyes on her as she went to find Vanora at the bar, but she refused to turn to see whose.

The red-haired woman was busily refilling tankards and plates, with Eleven on her hip. As Annia neared she heard Vanora mumbling about Bors being missing again.

"Need a hand, Nora?" the only answer she received was Eleven being placed in her arms.

"Don't drop him!" Annia let out an indignant protest. But then her intoxication reminded her why she was just told that.

Annia smiled and settled herself on a chair in the corner of the bar, bouncing the baby boy up and down, cooing to him softly. The child smiled a toothless grin, letting out little gurgles as Annia played with him.

"That suits you." How had Gawain snuck up to her like that?

"What?"

"A baby on your hip." Why was he smiling like that?

"Oh psh! When did a knight ever successfully raise a family during service?"

"May I remind of whose boy that is?"

"And is that supposed to support your argument?"

Gawain laughed loudly. Annia shifted Eleven so that he sat on her other leg, the boy facing Gawain, who she noticed was standing unusually close.

Vanora walked over to them then, smiling widely. "Well, would you look at this precious? One could almost say the three of you were a family!"

"Bite your tongue, Vanora." Annia could feel her temper rising with her embarrassment.

"Oh pish posh, if that kiss was anything to go by back there, this picture won't be an illusion for much longer."

"Right, I'm going to bed! Vanora, take your bastard. Gawain… good night."

"Good night, Nia." Again Annia felt her hand being squeezed.

As the woman walked back to her room, she could feel her hands clenching into fists. What was going on?!

She hadn't been faced with these feelings for _years_. She had accepted after about a month that she and Gawain would never be more than occasional bedmates, and even that had gone away eventually to be replaced by the same friendship she shared with the other knights. Yes, she had cared for him. Deeply. But things change. He had made it clear he wanted nothing more than what they did every now and then, so she didn't ask for it. But now…

She could feel a headache start as her thoughts became more and more chaotic. She tried to distract herself with preparing her armour and weapons for the morning.

It didn't matter anyway. In a few month's time they would all receive their discharges and then she would lose all of them forever. So to dwell on things past was futile, she'd only get hurt when he left.

* * *

_Reviews are not only welcome, they are required! *Ducks under flying objects thrown at head* ;-)_


	10. Chapter 10

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything except my OC's_

_Enjoy!_

X.

Annia had seen the smoke through the impenetrable cover of trees. She could smell how thickly it hung in the air. With Tristan having gone on a different route, as he sometimes did when threats were high, Annia was left to investigate alone.

This was what she enjoyed about scouting, when there was something to scout. Her silent steps and piqued senses always sent a thrill through her, keeping her that much more deadly. Sometimes she hated that she was such an efficient killer, a conflict all of them struggled with, but when it was just her and nature, she could be the silent hunter without having to take life.

But Annia felt her insides twist as she neared the source of the smoke, her tranquil mindset destroyed as she saw the first signs of a village now smoldering.

Her first instinct was to proceed and search for survivors, but she knew if there were any and they needed aid, she couldn't do it alone. Every second was precious as Annia sprinted back to Sarafax and raced him to where she had last seen Arthur and the knights, the caravan train only a couple hundred yards from that spot.

What seemed destroyed from a distance was hopeless when one walked through the debris and cinder filled streets, fires still burning in some places. Any survivors had surely fled, their neighbours and family who had not escaped had just been left to the flames. Hardened as she was by fifteen years of war and death, Annia still felt tears well up.

"They surely never had a chance." Gaheris's voice sounded heavy with sadness.

"Search for any still living." Arthur knew his order was futile, it could be heard in his tone. This was what they all hated most, when innocents died in conflict and there was nothing to be done for them.

Movement out of the corner of her eye made Annia pause and look to a small house, a shack really, that was almost completely burned to the ground. A small section of wall still stood and it was behind this that Annia could have sworn she saw someone moving.

Edging closer to it, Annia placed a friendly look on her face while her hand reached for a dagger, preparing herself for anything.

Crouching behind a broken table, was a small boy who was injured badly. Annia felt her stomach drop at the sight of the child, who couldn't have seen more than eight summers.

His face was bruised and bleeding, his leg horribly misshapen, and Annia could see his skin was pale through the dirt and ash, indicative of how much blood he had lost.

Stepping closer, Annia saw a woman lying near the boy, her eyes staring into the sky. Annia guessed since they had the same dark hair that this boy had just lost his mother.

She knelt down next to the boy, who instantly tried to fight her off,

"Get off me!" his voice was weak and hoarse, probably from breathing in the smoke, so he wasn't very loud. Neither did his frail body hold any strength.

Annia held his arms away from her, his nails no less sharp for his lack of strength, and said calmly, "Easy, lad. I'm here to help, you don't have to be afraid. You're safe."

"My mama! My brothers. They just came… I couldn't do anything…"

"I know. I know." She pulled him close and wrapped her arms around his small form, rubbing his head gently as his hands clung to her. Truthfully she needed this child to be calm if Dagonet was going to be able to fix any of the damage done to him. The damage inside well… that was another matter. Annia didn't even want to think about what this boy had been through. No child should ever have to experience something like this.

Picking the child up Annia ran to the others, shouting for the healers to tend to him. After answering what questions she could, where she found him, were there others and so forth, Annia made to put the child in the medical wagon as instructed by Dagonet, but when she attempted to leave, the boy snatched her hand and held on with a surprisingly strong grip. By now, most likely out of curiosity, Gawain and Galahad had joined them in the wagon, their tasks obviously completed.

Annia smiled down at the boy, "You need not worry, lad. The men here won't harm you, they'll make the pain go away."

"Will you stay with me? Please?"Annia glanced up at the other knights present, a little shocked at his behaviour. Children, save for Bors's bastards, usually avoided Annia like the plague for her fearsome reputation. Then again, this boy didn't know her.

Nodding she seated herself on the floor of the wagon, crossing her legs with the boy's hand still clutching hers.

"My name is Annia, by the way. What's yours?" She didn't want to know what the knights would say about this little touchy moment.

"Marcus."

"That's a nice name."

Dagonet appeared with all his potions and tools and began inspecting the boy's wounds. Every now and then Annia's hand would get squeezed and Marcus started crying when the giant moved to his leg. It wasn't broken badly, but it needed to be set.

"Will it hurt?" his voice was full of fear.

Annia sighed, why her?! Her brothers had always said never lie to an injured man.

"It will Marcus. But don't worry, I'm right here."

"You should brace him." Dagonet said.

_Oh gods will it be that bad?_

Annia nodded and got up to sit behind the boy, wrapping one arm around him to keep his arms still while the other hand gripped his forehead so that he thrash his head around.

"Deep breath, lad." Well at least Dagonet remained calm.

The little body stayed rigid as Dagonet splinted the leg, quiet sobs escaping him periodically.

The group was leaving the village by this time, what little they could do having been done. Annia watched the soldiers march past the wagon, their red and gold helmets contrasting the bleak hillsides they were passing through.

Once Dagonet had wrapped the splint he gave Marcus some sleeping syrup. Annia once again made to leave, wanting to give him some peace and quiet, but the boy wouldn't hear of it.

"I don't want to be alone." Annia settled herself back to where she had been, with the boy lying with his back against her chest, and waited for him to fall asleep.

"Mama sings to me sometimes, when I can't sleep."

Annia smiled in self loathing, how had she not seen this coming?

"I'm not a very good singer, Marcus. I'd give you nightmares."

"Don't care."

After another minute's debate, Annia sang a lullaby Vanora liked to sing to her younger ones.

She only managed to get a few lines out before the little body became slightly heavier.

Annia slipped out from under him and jumped out the wagon, her legs suddenly stiff.

"Who knew you were such a softhearted sap?"

"Shove it, Galahad." Gone was the sap.

"Truthfully, Annia. That was very kind of you." The woman smiled as Arthur handed her her reins. After Annia mounted she moved Sarafax next to Arthur, an issue plaguing her mind that had settled as soon as she found little Marcus.

"What will happen to him, Arthur?"

"The boy will have to be placed in the care of a family willing to take him in."

Children had been brought to the fort before, victims of violence and loss, their parents in the next realm. They had always been given to families to be cared for. To this day there was not a child without some form of a family at the fort. Arthur had seen to that himself.

"I cannot think of the horror that will be with him for the rest of his life."

"I should think you would be the one person that does understand, Annia."

"Perhaps that's true. But I was allowed to grow up first."

"So this is you grown up?"

She let out a laugh. Rarely did Arthur tease, never when on a mission. But Annia knew he was just trying to ease her worries. And it was working.

Her calm did not last long.

Annia had about five seconds in between feeling the hairs on her neck stand up and the sounds of the first few arrows being let loose.

* * *

All that was left a few minutes later was the eerie quiet that follows a battle. The men slowly starting taking stock of damages. The supplies had been successfully protected, and there were no casualties.

By the size of the party that had attacked them, it was not a predetermined decision. Most likely a group of Woads that just happened upon the travelers and had decided to attempt to steal the supplies they spied. Which explained why it had been so easy to defeat them. Too easy.

Looking around, it became apparent that not all were present.

"GAWAIN!"

The scream was enough to send birds fleeing into the sky, blood chilling and shrill. Gawain didn't even have to think about the sound's owner, he and the others running into the tree line to find her.

When they eventually found Sarafax, Annia's horse, Gawain went cold at the realization that she wasn't with him. But the sound of sobbing sent relief flooding through him and he followed the sound another fifty feet. What he saw when he came upon the woman, kneeling on the ground and weeping softly, took that relief away and replaced it with… nothing.

As he stared down at Annia holding his brother's lifeless body, all Gawain could feel was numb.

The blonde knight didn't move, or speak, his eyes just gazed unseeing at the man he had failed to protect. Gaheris was his little brother, his safety was his responsibility. He was just two and twenty summers old! He could hear Annia talking to him, the woman pleading with him to do something, but a haze had settled on Gawain's mind and he was unable to function.

"What happened?!" Arthur stepped into Gawain's line of sight and knelt next to Annia.

Annia just shook her head, "We were ambushed, I couldn't get to him in time… I couldn't…"

Another sob escaped her and she clutched the man closer. She was covered in his brother's blood, the gaping wound in his stomach would have made Gawain's stomach turn if he hadn't seen it many times before. Dagonet came with his herbs and salves, but Gawain and everyone else knew full well he was too late.

After feeling for a pulse, Dagonet let out sigh and shook his head to Arthur. Annia moved out from underneath the body, her sobs having quieted but tears were still running down her cheeks every few seconds. The other knights moved to place Gaheris on his horse, covering him with a cloak. Gawain's eyes still hadn't left the spot he had first seen his dead brother, but something tugging on his arm finally made him move. He looked at Annia's tearstained face and tried to listen to what she was saying.

"We need to go, Gawain."

Sorrow hung heavy on the knights as they rode back to the fort.

* * *

They had lost brothers before, fifteen years meant there was plenty of grief for knights that had fallen.

But this…

Annia just couldn't escape the burden Gaheris's death had brought on her.

It was even worse every time she looked at Gawain. The resemblance between them made Annia instantly think of Gaheris every time she looked at his brother's face.

The one small solace Annia had to hold on to was the fact that Marcus had found somewhere to call shelter, if not home. The fort's butcher and wife had approached Arthur not long after word was sent that there was a child refugee in need of care.

Marcus had been reluctant to go, his arms wrapped tightly around Annia's waist. A small part of her was annoyed that this boy had decided to attach himself to her of all people. How in the world was she supposed to care for a child with the life she led? The boy hadn't left her side since they left the site of the battle. When she'd emerged from the trees, blood all over her hands and clothes, Marcus had run to her, saying that he thought she was the one that was dead. Unlikely since she was the one that had screamed, but he was eight. This fear had apparently made Marcus adamant to stay with her, and Annia still didn't know why and she couldn't bring herself to ask. She wasn't a gentle looking person, hell Dagonet held more charisma than she did when she was dressed in her armour, but Marcus didn't seem to care. So with the thought that soon they would be back in the fort and he'd be given to someone who would want him, she let him ride back with her, letting him talk about his life and family. Why he was so clingy became clear when he said that Annia reminded him of his mother. Well if that didn't tug on the old heart strings, Annia didn't have a heart. Her desperation to be rid of him made her think that that was true, but she knew it wasn't that she didn't want him, it was that she didn't want him to grow up with a mother figure like her. When she came back from missions, covered in the blood of lives she'd snuffed, she didn't want a small child to see that. He'd been through enough without developing a fear of her too, likening her to the people who had killed his family. No, it was better that he live with a proper family that would give him the love he needed. Love Annia didn't think she had in her. Love for her brothers, yes. Love for the family she left in Sarmatia, that would never die. But love for a child? It was too much of a responsibility.

So she had calmly explained that Marcus couldn't stay with her, but that she'd be at the fort too so it wasn't goodbye, and he'd left with the butcher's wife.

Now she had to deal with the loss of her brother.

It was entirely too selfish to think of Gaheris as her brother, when one considered the grief his real brother must be seized with, but Annia didn't care. She had come to love these men as family and they all felt the sorrow and emptiness that followed Gaheris's death. The thing that weighed the heaviest on all their minds she was sure, was that they were so close to their freedom, but now it had been robbed from him.

Gawain had been absent from the burial, something that was unheard of for the knights, but Annia had spied him at the grave afterwards as the sun was setting, and there he stayed long after the stars had appeared.

* * *

A door had never been so intimidating. But Annia's stomach was knotted as she knocked on the door and waited. When no one answered she tried again. Gawain wasn't in the tavern, and he wasn't off with some barmaid that she knew of, so that left here. And now he was ignoring her like a child. They had barely spoken since Gaheris's death a week ago and frankly she was sick of it. She understood he was in pain, she probably understood more than anyone, but he was refusing to let anyone in. they had all tried to talk to him, but all they got in answer was a cold stare.

Now Annia was determined. He would at the very least just speak to her, even if it was to tell her to take a flying leap!

On the third knock Annia was forced to step back as Gawain threw his door open and stepped into the passageway, an angry look on his face that had never been directed at her before and stung unlike anything. A look that only softened a fraction as he realized it was her, he still looked plenty annoyed.

He raised his eyebrows at her, a very condescending look in his eyes as he waited for her to reveal why she was banging on his door. Annia sighed as she watched his eyes try to focus, the smell of ale thick in the air around him.

Annia had planned a speech that she was sure would break through this barrier of ice he had put up, but it decided to abandon her head as she took in the look on Gawain's face. If she thought she meant nothing to him before Gaheris died, it was only confirmed now. Annia shook her head, ignoring her own feelings for once, and said shakily, "May I join you?"

For several moments he just stared at her, as if trying to figure out whether she was serious or not.

Annia walked into the room when Gawain waved a hand for her to enter. The gesture said, "If you absolutely have to."

But Annia ignored the hurtful way he was treating her, she knew it was just because of his grief. By gods she was going to get through to him, though. Even if she had to physically throttle the man, he would listen to her! Everyone was worried that losing his brother had finally made Gawain crack. If they saw him twice in the last week, it was a lot.

Annia pushed her anger down, replacing it with gentleness. She turned to the knight who was leaning heavily against the closed door, watching her with a bored look on his face. He had obviously expected one of the knights to eventually try and talk to him. Get him to 'open up'.

"It's alright to need someone, Gawain."

She thought he would tell her to leave. She expected him to spurn her attempt to comfort him. She waited for him to speak, to shout, to cry… anything!

Annia threw her hands in the air, her volatile side taking over despite her best efforts to be restrained and caring. "Why do you shut everyone out?! All of us, we want to be there for you… I want to be there for you!" she ignored the realization of what she had just said and continued, "I know it hurts, but you don't have to let the pain do this to you-"

She stopped as his arms enveloped her, pulling her closer to him than they had been in years. Well, apart from one exception that she cared never to revisit.

But now Gawain was the one clinging to her for dear life. She smiled to herself as she wrapped her arms around him, her hand going to the back of his head that was tucked into her neck.

"I was supposed to protect him." He still didn't shed a single tear.

"No one expected that of you Gawain."

"I expected it of myself!" he let her go and paced the room, his hands in his hair, "He was my brother, I was the oldest, it was my responsibility to look after him. It's my fault he lies in the ground now."

"No, it's not." It sounded as if she were just trying to reassure him, but Annia spoke the truth. It wasn't his fault, but she wasn't ready to tell him the truth just yet.

Gawain stopped pacing and just stood there, his eyes boring into her for a moment before he just sat down on the floor with his back against the wall. He motioned for Annia to join him and she obliged, lowering herself so that she sat next to him, but faced him.

"I had hoped after fifteen years I'd be used to this."

"You mean after fifteen years you'd hoped to have turned to stone?"

He nodded, "Sometimes I think that I've become immune to the grief, I think that maybe it won't hurt anymore. Then I feel heartless for thinking like that."

"You grieve for our brothers, your brother, Gawain. Wanting to be free of that pain doesn't make you a bad person, just a normal one."

* * *

They talked for a few more hours, about nothing in particular. At one point Annia moved so she was sitting with her back against the wall too, a sign of her tiredness, but every time Gawain felt Annia start to fall asleep, he'd ask her something, anything else and she would smile drowsily before answering. He didn't have any real need to hear her answers, but if she fell asleep he would effectively be alone with his thoughts. And he didn't want to be alone.

Just before dawn, though, he let her drift off, resting her head on his shoulder.

He had thought on more than one occasion during their conversations to tell her of his feelings. But for some reason his tongue seemed to stick to the roof of his mouth every time he wanted to form the words. He dismissed it as his grief getting in the way. He'd get his chance soon enough.

* * *

_Reviews will make me so, so happy. :-)_


	11. Chapter 11

_Hello everyone!_

_I cannot begin to say how sorry I am for not updating in so long, but I got hit with that soul destroying writer's block! I'm back now and I've got a few chapters written so updates should be quick. Thank you so much if you're still with me, and an extra big hug for those who have read, followed and favourited in my absence._

_Disclaimer: I do not own anything associated with Kind Arthur, but I do own the original characters you've never before seen._

_Enjoy lovelies!_

XI.

Days turned to weeks, months passed and the ice melted to reveal the green earth underneath. For all the resentment Annia held towards this infernal country and its rulers, she still looked forward to the spring and summer months that brought such beauty to her prison. The air was slightly heavier, and the green fields rolled on forever. This summer in particular brought news of the roman bishop that was making his way to the coast of the channel. He would arrive at Hadrian's Wall by autumn. Annia had never seen the knights so tense before. Not only was it the promise of freedom that was a little over two months away, but it was for that very same reason that the knights felt a degree of apprehension as well joy. Though they were never asked out loud, questions swam in their eyes, "What if the bishop is attacked and the papers lost?" or "Will Rome be true to their word?"

It didn't help to think these things, but it didn't stop those thoughts either.

Exactly four weeks before the bishop arrived, Arthur called a meeting. Preparations had to be made for the esteemed bishop after all.

Annia had been on time today for once, and she sat waiting patiently for Arthur to begin the meeting, "Knights." Arthur's voice captured every man's attention in the room. "Bishop Germanus arrives a month from now with the papers holding our official discharge. We have been assigned to accompany him from the coast. Woad attacks are frequenting and it is our duty to ensure his safe arrival at the wall."

A snort from the youngest knight caused all heads to turn to him. But the man merely waved their stares away as if he were jesting. Galahad didn't jest when it came to Romans. None of them did. There was no joviality in that area.

"Doesn't the bishop have guards of his own?" Dagonet was ever pointing out the obvious.

"Why does he need us to hold his hand as he gets carried to the wall?" that from the tawny-haired knight.

"Men, these are our orders. Keep in mind they will be the last we receive from Rome."

There were murmurs of agreement from the knights as the truth of those words sunk in.

The last weeks of service that followed were lost in preparation for the Bishop's arrival. Knights that weren't training were out scouting and patrolling. Their skills were as efficient as ever, but all the knights knew the reason for their intense training was that they wanted to make sure the Bishop reached the fort alive with their papers.

Nights were lost at the tavern, their imminent release presenting a stamina the knights had been withholding for longer than they could remember.

In the year that had passed, Annia had noticed Gawain growing ever more affectionate when he thought no one was looking. Annia wasn't sure if it chalked up to the fact that all the knights were celebrating their release and this was how he showed it, but she found herself being the focus of his attention far more often not. Every night they spent at the tavern he would repeatedly take hold of her hand, or put his arm on her shoulders, and on more than several occasions he had kissed her. It was never an inappropriate kiss, always on the cheek or hand, but it still left Annia positively shaking with confusion, and he always answered her questioning gazes with a laugh, as if this was normal behaviour for him. Where was this all leading? Why was he being so… not Gawain?

Oh, and gods help any man that tried the same with her. Annia had found favour with a handsome widower a few weeks before and Gawain had all but throttled the poor man.

Unable to deal with the attention, Annia often fled the tavern, heading to the solitude of the stables to mull over her predicaments. Here they were, finally nearing discharge and she could feel the beginnings of…_something_ starting with a man she would no doubt have to bid farewell to her as soon as he held a parchment in his hands. That was the worst part. For all of Annia's best efforts, knowing Gawain wouldn't stay, she still found herself smiling every time he looked at her, even though he made her uncomfortable with all of his overt friendliness.

Annia was once again in the stables, on the eve of their departure to meet the bishop, and as she gently groomed Sarafax's side, she found herself humming to the gelding softly. Since she was a child, horses always seemed to lure songs out of her. Maybe it was their serenity when they weren't on the battlefield, but they always managed to quiet her mind in their presence. After a few minutes she started to sing, strangely enough about her homeland, something she hadn't done since… well since she came to this land.

"Why do you never sing for us?"

Annia whipped around, her blush once again spreading, and glared at the intruder.

"Why must you sneak up on me, Tristan?"

The knight laughed, stepping into the light with his tankard still in hand. Annia eyed him as he strolled towards her. He didn't look drunk yet, still steady on his feet. But then Tristan was always steady on his feet no matter how much alcohol he consumed.

"And now you're hiding in here again?"

Annia shrugged, trying and probably failing to feign indifference, "I find the constant din of a tavern full of drunks rather tiresome after several hours."

"Drunks or one drunk in particular?"

Annia scowled, feeling the heat crawl up her neck… again. Tristan merely smirked at her discomfort. "It's a little hard not to notice."

"Indeed." Such frustration was rarely present in Annia's voice when she spoke to the dark knight. But he was not the cause of her chagrin now was he?

For a moment Annia couldn't decide whether to burden the knight with her problems. He didn't need to be made aware of the details, having observed most of it himself, but Annia just really needed someone to talk to, who wouldn't try to convince her to _follow her heart_.

There was also the advantage that Tristan would _never_ repeat anything she said if she asked it of him. Where was the harm really?

The woman took a deep breath and said quietly, "I do not understand his reasons, Tristan."

The man only lowered his head a fraction, a gesture that meant she should continue.

"We're short of a month away from going home, why does he choose now to show… affections?"

"Perhaps you are only noticing now, Annia?"

She looked at him in surprise, hearing the meaning behind his words.

"Have I been that blind, all this time?"

Tristan shook his head once, "Gawain hides his feelings as much as the rest of us."

"Until recently." She let out a sigh of frustration. Telling Tristan was not nearly as helpful as she had hoped it would be.

The dark knight had placed himself on a hay bale and was now staring at the wall.

"Nia, the question is not why Gawain has become affectionate as you say. You have to ask yourself if you feel anything for him in return."

Tristan didn't want an answer from her. Annia was about to give him one, naturally denying any sort of affection for Gawain beyond friendship, but the knight left the stable before she could try assure herself that she was being truthful in her claims.

Left alone in the stable once again, Annia was left to really think about her answer.

Something that had managed to escape her this whole time hit her like a wall. It didn't matter if she loved Gawain or not. It didn't matter if he knew or not. How would she ever survive if something happened to him? She'd lost so many people that she cared about. Her parents, and her brothers and she didn't even know if those who were with her now would be there in a month's time. Annia came to realize then how truly terrified she was about losing Gawain too, and she didn't think she could survive it.

So no matter how much it may crush him for her to put aside what she felt, Annia just could not let herself give into any sort of feelings for Gawain because if he died and she survived it would destroy her. It just was not worth it, when they were so close to being free.

Her feelings no longer mattered.

She could not love Gawain

* * *

"As promised. The bishop's carriage." Gawain's voice held so much hope, something they were all feeling on this morning.

Annia gazed at the valley that stretched below them, the bishop's party making slow progress through the terrain. She counted about fifty armed soldiers which seemed a bit too modest considering who they were accompanying. Strangely enough, Arthur had ordered her to stay with the group instead of scouting with Tristan like she usually did.

"Mm, I can almost taste it." Bors said with glee.

"And your passage to Rome, Arthur." Dagonet's words made Annia sigh in sadness. That carriage held the papers that would send all of them away from her forever. The look that Arthur gave her then told her he had guessed the same thing she was thinking. He knew what their discharge meant for her as well. And frustratingly he pitied her for it. He pitied her awaiting loneliness in this country.

Annia turned attention back to the carriage that was now being attacked by Woads.

How predictable.

She looked to the knights that were preparing to ride into the valley, their horses reflecting their anticipation of the coming fight. Annia looked at the others and said with a smile, "Shall we?"

With that the group rode into the battle.

Annia could feel her body positively humming with the thrill of charging towards the fight. A twisted grin spread over her lips as she cut down the first woad that tried to pull her off her horse. All around her Romans, and knights were slaying the blue people, the natives' element of surprise lost as soon as the knights had arrived. Making her way to the carriage Annia grabbed a woad that had started to climb inside and pulled him away, sliding off Sarafax as he twisted in to face her and pull her to the ground with him. For a few seconds she grappled with him as he growled at her savagely, his hands curled around her throat, until she pulled her dagger out her belt and plunged it into his neck.

Rolling his body off her, Annia came to a crouch next to the carriage and saw a man hiding underneath it muttering his prayers. The man looked about ready to faint.

Annia smirked as his eyes met hers, lowering her head until she was gazing at him upside down, she said cheerfully, "Don't you want to come out and play?"

She stood as a pair of feet appeared next to her. Sidestepping the woad Annia brought her sword up into his belly. For all of the woads' fierceness in battle, they had far too much faith in themselves not to wear armour. A weakness that continued as she felled several more.

Turning, Annia saw Tristan dismounting and immediately entering the fray, cutting down five woads in about three seconds. The thrill Tristan seemed to find in killing was something Annia still didn't understand.

The woman let out a cry as an arm wrapped around her throat and a hand gripped her hair, pulling her head back to expose her throat. Annia was sure the man was trying to lift her off of her feet, but she had the advantage of height and so simply bent forward, throwing him over her shoulder and bringing her sword down into his chest.

Annia saw a woad a few yards away running to an oblivious Lancelot, knife raised. Annia pulled her bow from her shoulder and knocked an arrow, piercing the man's throat as Lancelot turned to block his attack. Looking around he shot Annia a mockingly grateful look and blew her a kiss.

Silence filled the air and Annia came to stand next to the other knights and watched as a woad muttered in their language to Arthur as the commander held his sword to the woad's throat so that blood trickled down onto his chest. Annia expected Arthur to let the woad man go, as a message to Merlin, so she didn't bother to stay and listen to the rest of that brief conversation. Instead Annia went to the carriage with Bors and Gawain, searching for the bishop.

Once Bors lifted the fabric curtain, the three were met with the sight of all four men inside skewered with arrows, their blood dripping onto the floor. Annia's jaw clenched as she noticed the bishop's robes, now drenched an even darker red.

"Well… he's dead then." Gawain nudged Annia with his shoulder as she walked past, silently admonishing her for her callousness, to which she merely smiled sweetly.

Bors continued to stare for a few more seconds, muttering about the mess, before he replaced the curtain and stepped in front of the coward that had hidden under the carriage while the knights protected his leader. Incidentally the man was still praying desperately and Bors began jesting with him, making incoherent noises while holding his hands together. Annia let out a small laugh as she mounted Sarafax when Bors complained that it wasn't working.

The knights then moved their steeds to gather around Arthur and a man dressed in a roman officer's uniform. After a few exchanged words between the soldier and Arthur, Annia realized that this soldier was in fact the Bishop Germanus.

_Mmmmm…smart plan._

"So these are the famed Sarmatians Rome speaks so highly of?"

Annia bit back her laughter as the Bishop's eyes roamed over each of their faces in turn. When his gaze at last fell on her, he was visibly shocked, but composed himself and smiled warmly.

"I had heard rumour of a woman riding with Arthur's knights. I am most intrigued to discover that it is true." The man didn't even try to hide his obvious contempt at the fact that a woman _dared_ to assume the role of protector for his leaders' empire. Annia could feel her brothers' eyes on her as she stared coldly at the grinning bishop.

Arthur said calmly, "Annia's service as a knight has been most beneficial to the British territories, Bishop."

"I'm sure it has." It was all Annia could do not to leap off her horse and wipe that condescending smirk off of that ass's face! After the bishop turned back to Arthur to continue questioning him about the woads, Annia felt a hand squeeze hers. Looking down, she saw her knuckles were white as she gripped the reins. Gawain's face was blank as she lifted her gaze, but his eyes said what his lips couldn't. "You'll be rid of them soon."

Annia gave him a small smile, and in a moment of carelessness she turned her hand and threaded her fingers with his. From past years, Gawain knew how to calm her, the method so simple it was almost childlike, but he was quick to grab her hand if she felt her temper beginning to break free of her control. And, as always, Annia felt her anger dissipate as Gawain's thumb stroked her skin.

Once again Annia focused her attention on the conversation taking place in front of her.

"He's called Merlin. A dark magician, some say." The Romans' clear discomfort at the mention of this heathen made Annia grin. _Thank you Lancelot_.

Arthur said her name, giving instructions for her and Tristan to scout the road and ensure the bishop's safe arrival at the wall.

The woods were eerily quiet, just like one would expect after a disturbance the likes of which had just occurred. All that could be heard was the steady breathing and hoof falls of the two steeds.

Annia could feel her eyes strain as she tried to take in every detail of their surroundings, keeping even more vigil than usual. The dark knight was just a few yards away, she could hear his horse every now and then. She wondered what Tristan, and all of the knights for that matter, thought of the bishop's comments. She didn't want to care, having dealt with much worse in the past having to live in a fort with Roman soldiers, but she did care. She cared to the point of tears. It wasn't so much that the Bishop didn't approve of her being a knight, but it was the fact that he had heard of her existence. And if he knew _about_ her, who's to say he didn't also know how she came into being a knight in the first place? The thought of her family being the subject of Roman gossip made her want to scream, their name no doubt being dishonored by rumours. And all because her mother simply wanted to live a life of love and happiness!

Annia was snapped out of her thoughts as her horse stopped moving forward and tried to double back, making the most hysterical noises. Something was wrong. Annia pulled her bow from the saddle and knocked an arrow, searching the trees frantically. Deciding that Sarafax would draw too much attention to whatever, or whoever, was out there, Annia calmly slid off and tied his reins to a tree, all the while keeping the arrow in place with one hand.

Walking into the brush, she noticed the fog that had covered the valley was now settled in the woods. This was beyond the call of duty. But that duty determined that she stay and uncover the threat, less they happen upon Arthur and the others. Including the bishop.

Annia wanted nothing more than to watch the bishop dispatched into the hands of the woads, but the man had her freedom with him. So she continued.

Lifting her arrow, Annia's fell upon the famous Merlin.

He stood on a hill, one solitary figure cloaked in fog and darkness. A strange and terrible fear took hold of Annia as she gazed at the man, all of the dark myth surrounding his name seeming to permeate from his skin. And it terrified her. The arrow that was trained at the man's forehead shook.

"Arthur needs our help." His voice echoed into the air like a physical being.

"For what?" Annia's voice on the other hand was hoarse and quiet, her discomfort with the man's presence showing more than she was trained to allow.

"An enemy approaches from the seas, an enemy neither of us can defeat alone."

"Enemy? Do you speak of the Romans?" unlikely since the Romans were on their out of Briton.

Merlin shook his head, and said one word that sent ice through Annia's veins.

"Saxons."

* * *

Gawain didn't bother to fight the apprehension that he felt as Annia and Tristan disappeared into the trees. Woads were still out there, and close, and the thought of Annia riding straight into their midst did very well to stir his fears. But, he reminded himself again, this was her best skill. Annia and Tristan were masters at seeing danger before it was there. She'd be fine.

As the knights neared the wall, Gawain's heart began beating double-time. His freedom, his new life, was literally that far away. Just a few more miles and then he would begin fresh. First thing he would do is leave this gods forsaken island. Second was asking Annia to go with him.

When she and Tristan joined the group a few yards down the road, Gawain didn't hide his relief, smiling warmly at her. She returned it, but he could see it was forced. He dismissed it as her still being wound up about the bishop's disrespect. If not to a knight who fought and bled for his leaders, then for the fact that Annia was a woman and deserved at least an iota of cordiality. Gawain had managed to calm her rage towards the fool, but he could tell it still bothered her greatly. He'd have to see to that when they returned to the fort.

Galahad had been talking non-stop about his mistrust for the bishop. It was a feeling they shared, but the cub's desperate desire to go home made him irritable.

Gawain smirked at his comments, "Is this your happy face cub?" at Galahad's glare Gawain laughed, "The Romans won't scratch their asses without ceremony."

Bors made some comment about taking the papers after killing the bishop, but Gawain had turned to Annia, ignoring the rest of the previous conversation.

Her gaze was distant, her mind elsewhere. He brought her back to the here and now by taking hold of her hand, a gesture he knew she happened to love. But now she pulled away as if he were on fire. Her face broke into an apologetic smile, shaking her head as if to scold herself, "Freedom makes one pensive."

"Thinking of home?"

She shook her head, her face settled into a smirk, "Thinking of leaving all of you in my dust."

"That's not polite."

She laughed then, and Gawain could feel the relief at seeing her relax. He really hated to see her upset. Even he didn't know how well she could hide her true feelings though. The joking was only a front.

* * *

Annia listened as Bors prattled on about taking over Briton once the Romans left. She hadn't been able to shake the dread that settled as soon as she left the woods with Tristan.

Merlin had given her one final demand before he sent her on her way.

"When the time comes, you will convince Arthur to accept our offer of allegiance. Until then, you will not speak of this meeting, you will not warn Arthur of the Saxons, and you will not fail."

Being told what to do by this enemy had broken through Annia's fear and she sneered at the man before her, "Or what?"

"Nothing, Annia. This is not a threat. This is an acceptance of the scheme of things. I _will_ protect my brothers and sisters, sons and daughters, at any cost. Will you not do the same?"

"What you speak of is not our problem. We receive our release in a few hours, wizard. By tomorrow you'll not hear of Sarmatian knights in Briton again."

Annia saw the smirk play on Merlin's lips, what did he know? He half turned, then stopped and said, "Take my allowing you and your precious Romans to return to the wall as a token of my trust."

With that he disappeared. Annia was sure she would ignore Merlin's words, why should she listen to a woad after all, but as she walked back to Sarafax she knew she couldn't. Merlin's words echoed in her head, will you not protect your brothers?

Yes, yes she would.

Now she just had to keep it from her brothers.

"Besides, I have, I think, a dozen children."

The knights said in unison, "Eleven." To which Bors sneered at the back of his horse's head.

"First thing I'm going to do when I return is wed a beautiful sarmatian woman."

Why did Gawain look at her when he said that?

Galahad seemed to have let go of his anxiety over the Romans' secrecy about their discharge, "What about you Lancelot, what are you planning to do once you go home?"

"The question is what will happen just before I return." He was smirking, that did not bode well.

"Enlighten us?" Oh, the naivety of that cub.

"Well obviously, Annia will finally admit to her feelings and run away with me."

Annia turned to the dark haired knight and smiled as if he had presented her with a carriage of gold. "Only with Bors's blessing Lancelot, you know that!"

Lancelot straightened in his saddle, looking for the world as if he was seriously attempting to court Annia and Bors was her father, "How about it Bors? May Annia allow herself to act on desires long present in her heart?"

"Not on your life! I'll not have my Annie defiled by the likes of you, Lancelot."

The woman laughed triumphantly at Lancelot, who smiled good-naturedly. But he wasn't through yet. "In all seriousness, Annia. When will we hear of your happily ever after?"

The woman was quiet, her thoughts travelling to a certain blonde knight next to her. Daring a glance she saw him gazing at her. There was that heat creeping up her face again.

Annia looked up at Lancelot and grinned, "When I find a man able to put up with sharing me with you, Lancelot."

Could a man smile any wider?

By now they had reached the wall. Annia could feel her heart begin to race as the gates opened and they rode into the courtyard. This was it. The bishop was safely inside the wall, now their lives could begin.

Annia laughed as Bors was bombarded with his eleven children, Vanora not far behind. The redhead drew stares from a few people as she backhanded her lover across the face. "I've been waiting for you!"

"Oh my flower… such passion."

Annia turned before she had to witness said passion firsthand. Making to dismount, Annia saw someone come to stand next to her out of the corner of her eye. Looking down she saw one of the Roman soldiers that had accompanied the Bishop smiling up at her.

"May I offer my assistance, milady?" and he held out his arms to her as if she were a child.

Annia nearly laughed in the man's face. Milady? That was rich.

But instead she smiled sweetly, "Thank you, but this isn't the first time I have dismounted my horse." Landing on the ground she turned back to the Roman and said with only a bit of an edge in her voice, "And it won't be the last."

Expecting some outburst pertaining to Sarmatian filth or what not, Annia was surprised when the soldier merely bowed and excused himself, returning to the bishop's side.

Now Annia laughed. Turning to face Sarafax's flank, Annia let out a quiet giggle, cupping her hand over her mouth to muffle the sound.

She heard another laugh and saw Gawain watching the soldier with amused pity. He looked at her, still grinning and said, "I have never seen a man turned away so politely."  
"It was difficult. I nearly couldn't do it, did you see his face? Like a little puppy!"

"Galahad should like to hear that."

Laughing, the two walked with the other knights to the meeting room. The excitement and joy that hung in the air around them was palpable. Annia joined the others in the toast to their fallen brothers. She was beyond happy to be free, but oh how that freedom came with a price!

Annia was trapped here, unsure of what to do once her brothers returned to their homes. She wanted to see her tribe again so badly it hurt, but she would be dragged away again and punished for treachery. The only thing she could think to do was beg Arthur to allow her to follow him to Rome, until she could make a life for herself. She trusted the commander with her life, and she hoped he would show her this one last kindness. It was the only lifeline she had. Annia couldn't stay in Briton, the land suffocated her, and with Merlin lurking in the woods waiting for her to betray him, Annia was just as desperate as the other knights to get the hell off this island.

* * *

_Review awesome people!_


	12. Chapter 12

_Hi guys!_

_I am the worst human being ever for taking so long to update, but my inspiration for this story has come to a grinding halt. _

_I'm not giving up though, we will get to the end of Annia's story, but updates might not be as frequent anymore. _

_My extra big thanks for those still reading this story, you guys are totally worth it!_

_Disclaimer: I don't own King Arthur or any characters, plots etc. associated with the movie or legend._

_Enjoy!_

XII

Annia sighed as Vanora fussed with her hair. The redhead had been working on it for too long now, Annia's scalp was beginning to get sore. Vanora had grabbed her as soon as she walked out of the meeting room, guessing the knights' intentions to celebrate their freedom at the tavern, and dragged Annia off to make herself look female.

Digging through Annia's trunk, Vanora had pulled out the only dress Annia owned and threw it at her. The woman couldn't remember the last time she had worn this dress. It was a simple black shift dress that fastened at the waist with a corset and thick ties that fell to the height of her knees, with bell-sleeves and a skirt that fell in a pool on the floor. The neckline was low and decorated with gold embroidery. Having slipped it on, Annia was then placed on the edge of the bed while Vanora attempted to braid the waist-length mess.

While she was busy, Annia thought about the meeting they had just had with the bishop, and the news he had brought with him.

Arthur and the knights had toasted to their freedom and the remembrance of those no longer present, then that simpleton Horton walked in and announced the bishop's arrival.

In no uncertain terms the last fifteen years of Annia's life had been a complete waste. When the knights left, the roman occupants were going with them, back to Rome.

Saxons were invading from the north and this was cause enough for the church to deem it 'unnecessary' to remain in Briton any longer.

Annia saw the anger etched to each of the knights' faces.

As Galahad had said, they'd risked their lives for nothing.

Then the bishop had requested to speak with Arthur alone and the knights left the meeting room, without their papers.

Throwing the woven hair over her right shoulder, Vanora gave her permission for Annia to finally join the revelry.

"Wait!"

Annia had actually jumped at the shout. Turning in the doorway to the woman, Annia watched as Vanora began digging through her things again. She held out something that Annia had forgotten about and felt a pang in her chest at the sight of it.

"You should wear this." Vanora placed it in Annia's hands, stepping away as the woman gazed at the jewel. It was her mother's necklace. A simple green stone in a silver clasp that dangled from a leather strap. A peddler had cheated her father out of ten coppers for this thing. But her mother had cherished it and always remarked that the stone was only slightly darker than the colour of Annia's eyes. Annia had always adored that rich, deep shade of green. It reminded her of the fields that surrounded her tribe back home. Gazing at that colour now was bittersweet.

"Thank you for remembering it Vanora. I shall wear it." She placed the necklace on her chest and smiled down at it. It was a ridiculous thought, but Annia felt in that moment that her mother was here with her in this time of joy and sorrow. And that she'd guide her through the coming months.

* * *

A few heads turned as Annia walked through the tavern moments later. Most of these people, the ones who knew her, had probably never seen her look like this before. Their stares burned into Annia and she was tempted to hunch her shoulders and skulk to her brothers in embarrassment. Instead the woman straightened her shoulders and raised her head proudly, walking with all the confidence she could muster.

Well… Galahad choked on his ale when he saw her walking towards their table. The others echoed his shock, so Annia decided to remind them just who exactly they were gawking at like fools.

"Not a damn word."

Satisfied at their sheepish looks, Annia went to the bar to fetch her ale. As she waited she was joined by a very happy soldier. He was standing so close that his arm was pressed to hers as it rested on the bar top, already stirring her temper. She met a smiling face and groaned inwardly.

"Remember me, Milady?"

"Indeed. The soldier from earlier." Her voice clearly said she had no interest in pursuing conversation with this simpleton, but the man was either too drunk or stupid to notice.

"Enya, if I'm correct?"

"Annia, actually." What the hell was taking Vanora so long?!

"My apologies, Miss Annia. I am Cato." All he received was a nod as answer that he had been heard.

"I am the Bishop's personal protector."

She smiled at _Cato_ and said politely, "And I'm sure you love your job as much as you love talking about it." Expecting that to put him off Annia returned her gaze to the wall on the other side of the bar.

"I'm sure you must be eager to return to your homeland." Unsurprisingly, he didn't notice the woman stiffen.

"Is Sarmatia as beautiful and wild as they say it is?"

"Wouldn't know, I haven't been there for fifteen years."

"Of course, lady, forgive my forwardness." He moved closer to her, if that was possible. "I find you're very easy to talk to."

Was this man hit in the head as a child?!

"Nia!" the woman nearly screamed for joy as Gawain came to stand on her other side, purposefully placing his arm on her shoulders. "We're waiting for you at the table. Galahad is determined to beat you this time!" she nearly kissed him right there and then.

"But I'm still waiting for my ale. I'm still sober as you can see." That was just for good measure, so that the halfwit didn't suffer too severe a blow to his ego. Although Annia very much wanted to strike something else other than his pride.

"Nah, you can share mine." Smiling apologetically at the Roman, Annia didn't struggle as Gawain pulled her back to the table, even pressing closer for effect.

"Thank you, brave knight. You saved my honour from a fate worse than death!"

The knight laughed and held his tankard out, which Annia took gratefully, "As promised, _Milady._" Annia cuffed him on the head as he bowed mockingly.

"It's not funny."

But, alas that was only the start of her humiliation. When she sat at the table Galahad only too happily told her what had transpired just before she was attacked by the Roman.

Apparently he had actually gone to the knights' table and asked about her, pointedly enquiring as to her marital status. Annia nearly threw up.

"Tristan had been the one to answer." Galahad said between bursts of laughter, "And I quote, _'attempting to woo a Sarmatian woman, particularly a knight, is like dancing with a bear. It doesn't work and you will lose your face.'_"

Annia grinned at the dark knight, who smiled back briefly, and held out a piece of apple for her.

"But the bonehead seems unable to accept a polite no, apparently." The cub nudged Annia as he laughed.

Throwing the last of the ale down her throat, Annia stood, "Well, I believe a knife throwing contest was promised?"

Cheers erupted as Gawain and Galahad rose from their chairs, the only ones who cared to oblige her wishes, and try and beat her.

The three placed a stool on a table in the corner and began. By the time they had decided the terms of a bet, Annia had finished another tankard, not bothering to pace herself, and so she didn't even argue when it was decided that if either Gawain or Galahad won she owed them a kiss and if she won she got a kiss from both of them.

Men.

Ladies first and Annia threw just off centre as she was more preoccupied with keeping the refill of ale _in_ the tankard than throwing straight. Gawain nearly missed the chair completely, and Annia felt a little disappointed. Letting out a raucous guffaw, he battled with the stool to get his knife back, making Annia giggle from her perch on a table nearby, and he came to stand next to her. Annia was beginning to feel dizzy so she leant her head on his shoulder, letting her eyes half close. Galahad stepped up and flung his blade, hitting the stool dead centre. Gawain blew through his lips, clearly displeased with the results of the competition. Galahad turned to them with a grin, and Annia, without lifting her head, just could not resist, "Two out of three?"

The man's look of horror made Annia double over from laughter.

Wiping the tears from her eyes, Annia said with a giggle, "Oh, cub you are too easy!" she held out her arms and said with a deep voice, "Come here, handsome."

Galahad took one step forward and a knife flew past his face. All three heads turned as the blade landed in the middle of the handle on Galahad's knife. Tristan stood as if this feat was completely normal. Actually for Tristan it kind of was.

"How did you do that?" Gawain sounded wounded.

Tristan merely gestured to the stool, acting as if the throw was as easy as slicing his apple, "I aim for the middle."

Annia rolled her eyes as Gawain stared at the dark knight with confusion. Next to him, Galahad sulked, having been cheated out of victory… again. He skulked over to the table and leant against it next to her with his arms folded.

"Aaaw. Galahad, I'll still hold up our deal, technically Tristan wasn't part of the competition."

Annia leaned over and grabbed hold of his chin with both hands and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

The cub smiled at her, and walked off in search of a woman. For all of his drunken doting and swooning, Galahad would never hold hope for Annia, it would literally be like kissing his sister.

Vanora walked past then and poured more ale in everyone's tankards. The woman was nearly run off her feet. Annia smiled. She'd miss Vanora dearly.

As if her job wasn't difficult enough, Bors decided to leave Eleven in his mother's arms as Dagonet appeared. Bors called to him, saying something about plans that they needed to make. Clearly the two intended to travel together across Rome. It made Annia burn with jealousy to think she didn't have that.

"Annia?" Gawain was strangely docile all of a sudden. "There's something I wish to speak with you about."

"Sounds serious, Gawain?"

"It is."

Annia looked down at the hand that now gripped hers. Suddenly she was very nervous. But…happy.

She let the knight pull her off the table and lead her to the tavern's door, not saying anything as she followed.

But once outside she heard Vanora start to sing and she pulled on Gawain's hand to stop him.

"Wait, I want to hear Vanora."

Gawain silently moved to stand next to her, both pairs of eyes focusing on the redhead who sang lovingly to the baby in her arms. She was singing of home. Annia could feel tears forming as the words echoed into the night, bringing thoughts of her family just waiting for her to return to them. The same look of longing was reflected in all of the knights' eyes, Galahad sang quietly along with Vanora.

Annia felt her heart give a flutter as an arm settled around her shoulders. For the first time in forever, Annia leant into Gawain's embrace, resting her head on his shoulder.

When Vanora finished Annia shook her head once, straightening to look at a wistful Gawain.

"What was it you wanted to say?" her voice was unusually lilting, making the knight smile.

He opened his mouth to answer, only to turn his head as Bors shouted Arthur's name. Annoyance flashed in Gawain's eyes before they settled back to joviality. Annia followed him to the knights that gathered around their commander, noticing with sadness that the arm had left her shoulders.

Arthur looked as if the world had dropped onto his back. Annia felt dread erase her happiness.

"Knights...brothers in arms... your courage has been tested beyond all limits. But I must ask you now for one further trial."

"Drink." Bors threw back the tankard.

"We must leave on a final mission for Rome before our freedom can be granted. Above the wall, far in the north, there is a Roman family in need of rescue. They are trapped by Saxons. Our orders are to secure their safety."

The knights laughed forcefully, clearly desperate for Arthur to tell them he was jesting.

But Annia knew better, and she was cold inside. Merlin had mentioned Saxons. His prophecy was coming true.

"Let the Romans take care of their own." Now Bors was angry.

Gawain was too calm, "Above the wall is Woad territory."

Galahad slurred, but his anger was clear too, "Our duty to Rome, if it was ever a duty, is done. Our pact with Rome is done."

"Every knight here has laid his life on the line for you. For you." Bors pointed at Arthur with so much anger and betrayal, he may as well have struck the commander, "And instead of freedom you want more blood? Our blood? You think more of Roman blood than you do of ours?" the rest of the tavern had gone quiet.

"Bors! These are our orders. We leave at first light, and when we return your freedom will be waiting for you. A freedom we can embrace with honor." Arthur sounded just as betrayed. He by his own people.

"I am a free man! I will choose my own fate!" a baby's cry could be heard, and Annia knew it was Eleven. She was too stunned to say anything. They had been so close to home!

"Yeah, yeah. We're all going to die some day. If it's a death from a Saxon hand that frightens you, stay home." Oh, Tristan.

"Listen, if you're so eager to die, you can die right now!" Galahad lunged at Tristan, and Annia went to pull him back.

Lancelot stood in between Galahad and Tristan, "Enough. Enough!"

"I've got something to live for!" the cub shook Annia off, his voice making her ears ring.

"The Romans have broken their word. We have the word of Arthur. That is good enough. I'll prepare. Bors? You coming?"

"Of course I'm coming! Can't let you go on your own! You'll all get killed! I'm just saying what you all are thinking!" Bors was pretty much past speaking at a normal volume now, his rage taking over, even to his best friend Dagonet.

Arthur turned to Annia then, his eyes begging her for her understanding.

"Annia?"

She felt eyes, she felt their burn on her skin. But how could she abandon her brothers now?

Nodding she said, "We've come this far. Done this much."

Apparently that was the wrong thing for Galahad to hear just then. He whirled to face Annia and took a step closer to her, his face twisted in anger and… disgust?

"And does that blood not satisfy you?! Do you wish to continue the life of a cold murderess?"

"Galahad!" Gawain admonished the younger knight harshly, taking Annia's hand as she stared at Galahad with a blank expression. One would say, looking at her face, that he had asked her if the sky was blue, but inside Annia broke.

Looking at Arthur, Annia said quietly, "I'll follow you Arthur." And she turned and left before anyone could see her cry.

Harsh words from Romans and Woads she could laugh off. She could answer their insults with a smart-ass remark with ease. But this. This was too much.

Her brother, her friend, had hit a nerve no other had dared to strike at before. Annia fled the tavern and headed straight for the stables, seeking refuge where she knew no one would find her, even by accident. Burying her face in Sarafax's mane, Annia let a few silent tears fall. Despair racked her innards until she shook. Anger and pure hatred burned in every fiber of her being. She had never felt such emotions before, not even as she rode away from her tribe. The one small chance she had of leaving this land and someday finding her own home had just been ripped from her grasp and she wanted to scream for her loss. That and her brothers. This mission was going to damage them all in ways unprecedented, she just knew it. The chances of surviving this mission were so minute, hope seemed laugh in her face.

Annia quieted as a voice spread through the quiet stable.

Arthur.

He was praying to his god. If Annia thought it would help, she'd have asked him to pray for her too. Or even muttered the words herself. As it was she just listened to his plea for mercy.

"Not for myself, but for my knights, for this is truly their hour of need. Deliver them from the trials ahead, and I will repay you a thousand fold with any sacrifice you ask of me. And if, in your wisdom, you should determine that that sacrifice must be my life for theirs, so they may once again taste the freedom that has so long been denied to them, I will gladly make that covenant. My death will have a purpose. I ask no more than that."

Annia stepped out of Sarafax's stall and gazed at her commander. Arthur's back was to her as he gripped a saddle rail with so much force his arms shook. She wanted so much to comfort him, his guilt over their fate made her heart ache for him.

"Arthur?" she said in a quiet voice, suddenly ashamed at having eavesdropped. Well, she was there first.

He turned, surprised to find her there, probably even more so that she had heard his prayers.

"This wasn't your fault, you know."

"I cannot give my knights what was promised them. How is that not my fault?"

"You didn't make that promise, Arthur. Rome did. You haven't broken that promise, the Romans have. And you didn't make the pact that has sent Sarmatians here since before our time."

She came to stand in front of him, her face and voice were gentle and understanding.

Arthur nodded, his eyes unable to meet hers.

"What would you have done, Annia?" at her confused expression, he elaborated, "Where would you have gone once we received our papers?"

She looked down then, seemingly ashamed, "I had meant to ask you if you might allow me to live in Rome, until I found a home of my own."

He laid a hand on her shoulder then, "And I would have welcomed you."

Annia smiled at her leader. "Your men love you Arthur. They're sore now, but they would never abandon you. We will see this through. And if your faith is powerful enough, you'll find peace with whatever fate we're dealt."

"Perhaps you can find faith as well, Annia."

"I don't place my faith in beings I've never seen. But in men who earn it. I have faith in you, Arthur, and I will always."

He squeezed her shoulder. Lancelot entered the stables then, his face showing a lot less forgiveness than Annia had shown towards the commander.

Annia decided to give the two friends some privacy and placed a hand on Lancelot's shoulder as she passed him, silently imploring the man to go easy on his friend. Lancelot's dark eyes didn't leave Arthur.

Annia didn't care to eavesdrop on that conversation too, she wasn't that disrespectful.

The streets were empty save for a few late night laggers. Some people were even talking about what had befallen the knights earlier, but naturally quieted as she passed them. She ignored the one or two sympathetic looks she received.

Entering the knights' lodgings, Annia stopped abruptly when she caught sight of the man sitting leaning against the wall opposite her door. Gawain looked to her and stood quickly, brushing his hands on his breeches.

"Annia, I just wanted to make sure you were alright."

A lump rose in Annia's throat, choking her. Swallowing she said a little harsher than she meant to, "I'm fine Gawain, you need not worry for me." She moved towards the door, but the knight stepped into her path.

"No, you're not fine, Nia, don't lie." His voice was so gentle she wanted to weep all over again, "What Galahad said to you… it wasn't fair. And it hurt you, I could see it."

"The cub's just upset. He'll be back to his old self the morning." Could she sound any more false?

"Bors was upset too, and even he didn't dare to say something that hurtful."

Annia was trying so hard not to show just how hurt she was, but it wasn't working. The longer Gawain stood there looking at her like that, the more her control on her emotions slipped. Soon she'd just break and she refused to be that weak in front of him.

"Don't be angry with him, Gawain. He's your friend."

"Indeed he is. But he's not you."

Those words triggered something in her, deep down in a place she thought had died. In a moment of thoughtlessness, Annia stepped forward, laced her arms around Gawain's neck and pressed her lips to his. His surprise only lasted a second as he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close, returning her kiss with a desire she hadn't felt for too long. Kissing Gawain in that dark passage, Annia was positively floored at how much she had missed this, she wanted him so badly it hurt. The comfort a man could offer her, she couldn't deny her need for it no matter how much she tried. The night before her possible doom, she wasn't going to deny herself one more pleasurable moment. Gawain was here, he wanted her and that was all that mattered right now.

Annia let out a groan as he pulled away, bringing a hand up to caress her cheek, "I take it you're feeling better?"

"You're wasting time." Where the hell did _that_ come from?! If one kiss did this to her…! The blush was hot and rose up into her cheeks in the blink of an eye. Annia didn't look away from him, though. She wanted to show Gawain how much she wanted him to know her again.

Gawain was smirking at her answer, and she felt a momentary attack of shame at her promiscuity. Then again, she hadn't behaved much differently the first time either. And as with that night, she abandoned any and all modesty, allowing Gawain to see a side of her she kept well hidden as she pulled him into her room.


	13. Chapter 13

_A/N: Been a while huh? Hopefully you guys are all still with me, and waiting to see what happens in the next chapter of Annia's story, so here it is!_

_Big BIG thank you to everyone who has followed, favourited and reviewed, you warm the cockles of my heart!_

_ZabuzasGirl, thanks for your encouragement, no pressure huh? ;-) _

_Disclaimer: However much I may wish otherwise, I don't own King Arthur, only my OC's._

_Enjoy :-) _

XIII.

On the eve of a suicide mission, Gawain could not have been more content.

Annia, the woman he loved, was here. She was in his arms and a thousand Saxons couldn't have taken her from him. In a few short hours they would be leaving the wall and possibly heading to their deaths, but the sun hadn't risen yet and so Gawain only moved closer to the woman next to him, breathing in her scent.

She had fallen asleep about an hour ago, her face devoid of any of the pain he had seen there before, replaced by this peace. Gawain could have spent eternity here, rest and sustenance be damned, just watching her sleep.

He must have fallen asleep too because when he next opened his eyes, the bed was cold. Still half asleep, Gawain reached out and grasped at the empty sheets, searching for the warmth.

When it became clear that Nia was gone, he let out a growl of sorts.

"Annia?" was that disappointment in his voice?

"The fire died." Her quiet voice drifted to him from her perch on the floor in front of the fireplace.

Gawain looked at her and suppressed a wolfish grin. All she had on was an undershirt that came down to her mid-thigh. It certainly didn't leave much to the imagination. Her beauty was enhanced by her long hair that was free of its braid for once, the small braids and beads dangling freely. Oh, if he could freeze this moment and keep it forever!

"It's not as cold in this room as it is in this bed. Get back over here." He sounded as lecherous as Lancelot just then. But he couldn't care less.

Annia flashed him a look of annoyance before getting up and reaching for… her breeches?

As Annia dressed, Gawain remained where he was, confused and more than a little disappointed. Why was she readying herself for a day that wasn't even upon them yet? The sky was still dark.

When she'd tied her hair back, she sat on the edge of the bed, her boots dropping to the floor as she slipped on her stockings.

"We have a mission to get ready for, Gawain. Off you go."

"We're not leaving for a few more hours." He raised his eyebrows suggestively.

Her face was blank for a few moments, moments that Gawain could have died in, and then she gave a small smile. It didn't reach her eyes though.

"Get out of my bed, Gawain." her tone was teasing, sincerely so, but he knew better. She was shutting him out, like he had done after their few nights together. He only hoped with all his being he didn't make her feel this hurt. Truthfully he probably did and that was the reason she was being cold now. Payback. And it stung like a…

"Go on." she bent down and threw his clothes at him, smirking as she walked to her washbasin to clean her face. While Gawain dressed he noticed her pointedly not looking at him, which made their night seem empty and meaningless. Why was she being so distant now? Just when he thought his deepest desire had come true, he could only watch as she put her walls back up.

The thought of him meaning little more to her than a roll in the sheets was one he was trying so hard to ward off. But then he realized the obvious. They were about to depart on a possibly fatal mission. Who would be so foolish as to allow feelings to develop now? Gawain didn't count, his feelings having risen long before, but he could easily see the idiocy Annia would see in becoming attached to him now.

Before leaving he took hold of her hand while she was busy laying out her weapons, and kissed it lightly, being rewarded with a smile that did reach her eyes.

"See you soon." And walked out into the freezing cold passageway.

The man was damned if he was going to let her slip away again. She had allowed herself a night with him, let her walls drop, and if, no _when,_ they returned he'd make sure she'd do it again… and again… and again.

* * *

Annia stared at the door that had shut just moments earlier, gently rubbing her hand that was tingling in a very specific spot just above her knuckles. She wanted to be furious. At herself. At Gawain. At the whole gods forsaken earth!

Why did this have to happen now?

Annia tried to drudge up some kind of anger at her misfortune, at fate that seemed determined to break her into a million pieces and laugh as she tried to put herself back together with some of the shards missing. She knew that that's what would happen should this mission go awry, and it probably would. She could not be falling in love! Not now, not ever. It couldn't happen. Not with someone who would surely not look back as he rode for his long lost home.

Instead of anger though, all Annia could feel was guilt. She was certain Gawain cared for her. He probably didn't love her, but there was nothing wrong with that, love was a fantasy lived out by so few and even less by knights. Annia didn't expect love, but the thought that Gawain might feel that for her made her want to scream from guilt. She had craved the warmth and affection last night, after her world turned several shades darker at the mission and Galahad's cruelty, and Gawain had been there.

Yes, she felt terrible for letting him see that caring side of her, only to kick him out a few hours later, but what did he care? He had no shortage of company at the fort if he wanted it.

Then why did the thought of another in Gawain's arms make her suddenly sharpen her sword faster and more forcefully?

No, she needed to squash these feelings and foolish thoughts before they took over her rational mind! Last night would definitely be their last. She would see to that.

Shaking her head to rid herself of these burdensome thoughts, Annia placed her sword on the table along with a range of other weapons, and went to put her armour on.

Next to the trinkets her parents had left to her, Annia's armour was her most prized possession, even above her bow. It was like wearing a second skin, the plated steel molded to her form so that she barely noticed that she wore it. On top of her usual leggings and short black undershirt, Annia tied a corset of sorts made from folded leather that covered her from chest to hips. Over that went an elbow length mail shirt and a long sleeve tunic that had a hood and fell to the floor with two slits up the sides that reached her thighs, all black naturally. Lastly Annia slipped on her brigandine. Oh, gods how she loathed this thing entirely. It was the only component of her armour she didn't like. The plated steel and leather made her feel trapped for ages after she put it on. But it protected her well so she put up with it every time it pinched her. After lacing up the arm braces and leg guards, Annia strapped all of her weapons on, recalling once again why the knights only dressed once when they went on missions, never bothering to take anything off, it took forever!

Annia doused the fire that she had tried to rekindle before Gawain began whining at her, slipped her mother's necklace on, tucked it under her armour and left her room, encountering a fully dressed Lancelot on her way out the lodging house, and a fully, albeit untidily, dressed barmaid whose name Annia didn't care to recall.

"I saw Gawain earlier, walking to his room looking like a whipped puppy."

The woman tensed unwillingly for reasons other than that she had maybe been found out, but she hid it with a smirk, "Tell him that to his face."

The dark haired knight shrugged as if to say, "Let him try." But out loud he said to her, "You wouldn't happen to know why, would you?"

"Of course I know why but it's not really any of your business is it?!" she didn't shout, because honestly she wasn't angry. She didn't feel the need to lie to Lancelot, he'd only draw his own conclusions if she did and those would be slightly less scandalous than the reality of the evening.

But her biting answer only made Lancelot smile in triumph.

"Oh we all know it was bound to happen eventually." He slung an arm over her shoulders as they neared the stables, the sun just starting to rise. "So when is Lancelot's turn?"

"When hell freezes over you letch!"

Their laughter made some of horses protest, having probably been disturbed. Annia shoved Lancelot into his mare's stall and moved to hers, gathering the necessary tack and setting to work just as some of the other knights arrived.

As Annia strapped the last of her other weapons onto Sarafax's saddle she saw a shadow settle on the leather.

"Annia?"

The woman couldn't help the grimace that appeared as she turned to Galahad. The look on the cub's face was full of remorse. She knew what he wanted to say.

"About last night… what I said-"

"Was cruel and hurtful and something I never expected to come from you."

His face fell even further, if that was possible, and Annia felt a small smile tug at her lips. She put her hand on his shoulder and looked him in the eyes, "But I forgive you for it anyway."

"You do?"

"Yes, cub I do." His smile could have lit the entire stable, but then it was replaced by confusion.

"Why, though?"

"Because I know you'd never say something like on purpose, and I understand your anger. We all feel that way."

"You still didn't deserve it."

"No I didn't, but I'm not going to punish you further when I don't need to." She grinned then, "Plus, you were really drunk. Like really, _really_ drunk."

Galahad laughed, pulling her in for a hug that squeezed a little too hard. "Thank you, Nia."

She patted his back reassuringly and shoved him in the direction of his horse. Looking past him she noticed Gawain watching them, his hands frozen over a saddle strap. The look on his face was unmistakable and Annia simply nodded, her smile growing a little. Gawain nodded and smiled back, both knights returning to their work.

By the time the knights had finished their preparations the sun was well up and Vanora had arrived with the brood to bid their father farewell.

The atmosphere was dreary and Annia's heart broke as she took in his children's sad faces. As the man made his promises that he would return, one little face appeared in front of her, his arms wrapping around her waist.

Looking down she smiled sadly. Annia knelt down on one knee to look at Five, nudging him under his chin with a finger in an attempt to cheer him up, "Hey, buck up Five. We'll be back before you know it."

The boy didn't answer, his face a picture of despair. Annia sighed, pursing her lips. Then the woman smiled, "Tell you what," she reached down and slipped her father's ring off her finger, placing in the child's palm, "Hold onto this for me, alright? I'll be expecting it when I get back."

The child gazed at the circlet, his eyes trying to read the Sarmatian word etched onto the metal, "What does this say?"

"It says 'family'."

As Five hugged her again, Annia glanced up as the Bishop walked in, a look of triumph and false pride on his face.

For a brief second their eyes met and Annia sent him a look that could have felled an army on itself, one that said clearly, "Are you happy with yourself, Bishop?"

His eyes narrowed for a heartbeat before returning to the smile she so badly wanted to scratch off.

Vanora ushered the children out of the stables, sensing their presence was not welcome by the Bishop. Annia saw all of the knights either polishing swords or at the very least holding some kind of weapon that could fell the bishop in a second. He noticed this and his face betrayed his fear, no matter how minute that fear was, for a moment. Annia smirked as the message was received. It would literally be that easy for one life to end so quickly, they were challenging him to do _anything _to anger them. Germanus stepped forward, indicating to his lapdog Horton.

"To represent the Holy Court, my trusted secretary Horton will be accompanying you on your quest."

Annia shook her head at the supercilious look on the whelp's face.

Arthur merely instructed Jols to find him a horse.

"God speed as you fulfill your duty to Rome."

"My duty is also to my men." Annia could see how badly Arthur wanted to throttle the bishop, much like the rest of them.

"Then get them home."

Hoisting herself into Sarafax's saddle, Annia glanced around the courtyard one last time as she followed the knights out of the stables after the esteemed bishop had bade them farewell. In the crowd she saw a familiar face gazing at her sadly. Annia smiled at Marcus and winked at him, his face softening from its sorrow a bit.

* * *

The rain was a nuisance.

It made tracking nearly impossible. Annia had spent about an hour scouting the surrounding area where the knights made camp, her senses straining against the watery curtain.

They had escaped a woad attack just that afternoon, Annia and Tristan uncovering their whereabouts just a little too late before they were chased a good few miles and the woads vanished, abandoning their advances as a horn of some kind sounded through the trees.

Now Annia knew they were being watched as she made her way back to camp, a fire just barely burning in the storm. Settling herself on the ground in between Gawain and Lancelot, Annia tried in vain to keep herself somewhat dry by wrapping her cloak tight until only half of her face showed. She looked at Gawain and couldn't stop the wounded expression taking over her face. He smiled and opened his own cloak, nodding his head he said huskily, "Get over here."

Annia shook her head, snuggling in the rain being all too tempting a prospect, but Gawain just looked at her as if she had two heads, his arms still held out waiting.

Annia gave in and shifted over, leaning back against Gawain's chest as he wrapped his cloak around them both, putting his arms around her.

Annia sighed, no less wet but suddenly a lot warmer, and ignored the pointed smirk Lancelot shot the pair. Apparently that look had a purpose as he put his elbows on his knees and rested his head on his hands, saying smugly, "So, Gawain what will happen to that beautiful Sarmatian woman that awaits your return now that Annia seems all too eager to replace her?"

"Bite me Lancelot." Well if that didn't confirm his suspicions then there was no sense in the world.

Gawain only laughed, "When I find her Lancelot, I'll be sure to send her your way."

"She will be disappointed, I'm afraid. Now that Annia is spoken for I have to ensure she remains satisfied."

"Lancelot, I will hit you with my axe."

"And I will let him." Annia's smile faded slightly as Gawain's arms tightened. He found her hand under the two cloaks and began to play with it, idly drawing nonsense patterns in her palm with his fingertips. Against her better judgment Annia felt herself relax under his touch, leaning closer to him.

Then she felt him throw his head back a few inches, his growl reverberating against her back, making her shudder. "Oh! I can't wait to leave this island. If it's not raining, it's snowing, if it's not snowing, it's foggy."

"And that's the summer." Lancelot was assiduously tending to his double swords. How the man could see in this weather was beyond Annia's understanding.

He asked Bors about whether he would take his lover and children home, Annia tried to listen to Bors's answer, but her eyes were heavy all of a sudden.

Gawain nudged her back to attention, lowering his head so he could be heard over the thunder, "Don't go to sleep, Nia."

"Why? I'm tired." Annia hated it when she whined, but now she didn't care. It was just too warm under these cloaks.

"Who else is going to keep me company with you unconscious?"

Annia laughed, her desire to sleep suddenly gone.

Bors attracted her attention again, "Dagonet, she wants to get married, give the children names." That didn't seem like too tall of an order for Vanora to make.

"Women." Tristan sat against a tree just outside the circle, slicing through another apple, "they are never satisfied."

"Thanks for that, Tristan!" the knights laughed at Annia's shock.

The knight continued with a smirk, "The children already have names, don't they?"

Annia caught herself imagining what it would be like to give her first child a name. A name that was chosen just for them. She mentally scolded herself, disregarding the possibility of children.

As she listened to Bors talk about his brood, Annia smiled at the obvious affection the man held for them. Bors was all courage and abrasiveness, but the man had a heart, especially when it came to his family.

It made Annia ache for her own father. Was he even still alive? And if he was, who's to say she'd find him again before the earth claimed him?

After Bors left to relieve himself, Annia tucked herself further into the cloaks, her face nearly covered completely.

"Can I sleep now, Gawain?" again the rumble on her back made her insides melt.

"Yes, Nia. You may close your tired eyes."

Her heart did a flip as Gawain placed his forehead on her shoulder, folding himself around her as he drifted off, and she listened to him breathing for a while before nodding off. Why was fate so cruel? If she pretended that they were together, it felt easier than breathing. She could feel warmth spread through her as she felt his breath against her skin, his heart beating against her back. She could try and deny it until she was blue in the face, but it was painstakingly obvious.

She loved the man. More than air!

But they were in the middle of woad territory, bound to rescue a family bared down upon by a Saxon incursion. Was this really a place for love to thrive? Gods the world was cruel!

Having to scout ahead, Annia woke long before the others did, slipping out of Gawain's arms and smiling as he let out a groan in protest, still fast asleep. She put on her cloak and mounted Sarafax. Lifting her hood she noticed Tristan had left already. She'd have to catch up to him…again.

* * *

She'd been out for about an hour when Merlin showed up.

When Sarafax started acting up again she knew the woad wasn't far, and she let out a sigh as she pulled her bow off her shoulder and knocked an arrow. She may have been forced to do his bidding but there was no way she trusted him. It was ludicrous.

With the early morning fog still lingering it wasn't difficult for Merlin to sneak up on her.

"The time has come, Annia."

"And here I was thinking you'd forgotten about me." Three other woads were standing nearby and one of them made to advance at Annia's biting reply, only to be harshly admonished by his leader.

"Arthur must accept an alliance and you must be the one to convince him. Now, before the Saxons kill us all."

"And what if I've decided not to be your little messenger, Merlin?"

The other woad shouted in his language at her and lunged. Annia was not a pushover and these savages weren't going to make her one. She loosed the arrow into the man's leg. Knocking another one she pointed it at Merlin's throat, the look in her eyes more venomous than it had been in a long time. She was ready to kill this man without a second thought. To Merlin's credit he actually took a step back, his eyes darting to the man on the ground that was clutching his leg in agony.

"You might want to keep your dogs on a leash." Acid dripped from her words, her fury practically burning through him.

"I am not your subject, Merlin. You will not presume to threaten me. I will speak to Arthur, once. If he refuses I will not assume the role of traitor trying to do your job for you. You want Arthur's help? You ask him yourself. I would love to see you try."

She didn't care that there could be dozens of woads hiding in the trees just waiting for an order from Merlin. This mission was hard enough without her having to play lap dog.

While she waited for Merlin to kill her, his reputation disallowing any other decision as far as she was concerned. Well, her arrow would fell him before any of his followers could kill her, and that a big consolation.

"Then go."

* * *

_Reviews send me to my happy place!_


	14. Chapter 14

_A/N: Hello my dears, I made a concerted effort to update, sooner than I planned at that, after receiving some really nice reviews and follows and favourites! So big thank you to everyone, this chapter is dedicated to you!_

_Disclaimer: I don't own King Arthur, only my OC's_

_Enjoy Lovelies_

XIV.

Roman arrogance was rather consistent throughout its empire.

Annia watched with narrowed eyes as the Roman and his entourage walked through the gates of his lavish palace.

"It is a wonder you have come." The man clasped his hands together in praise of his god, "Good Jesus, Arthur and his knights."

Annia could have spent an age listing all the things that made this man stir her temper. His voice for one thing, was enough to make her cringe.

He was immediately adamant that he would not leave his estate, despite the impending Saxon invasion.

Arthur ignored him and asked for Alecto. A voice answered from the wall and Annia glanced up to a boy standing with a woman.

"Alecto is my son. And everything we have is here in the land given to us by the Pope of Rome."

_As if that would stop the Saxons from burning it to the ground._

"Well you're about to give it to the Saxons." Lancelot was as short on patience with this man as Annia was.

"They're invading from the north." Arthur explained.

"Then Rome will send an army."

Annia let out a long sigh of irritation, wanting to cut this Roman down and save the Saxons the trouble. Marius would probably attempt to defend himself by talking them to death. Come to think of it, it would probably be a worse fate then battle. Especially with that voice.

"They're invading from the north."

Marius frowned at this news. But he barely flinched otherwise, "Then Rome will send an army."

Annia rolled her eyes, looking to where the serfs were gathering, trying to listen in on what the newcomers were discussing with their master.

Suddenly her eyes fell on a wooden frame where a man dangled from ropes tied to his wrists, unable to hold himself up. In the cold weather that had enveloped the land since they left Hadrian's Wall, the man was barely dressed, his torso completely naked. Annia could guess what had befallen him, and she shivered, her hand going up to rub a spot on her shoulder where the first of her marks were.

Annia looked back to where Marius was reluctantly preparing to leave.

Clearly Arthur had resorted to brute force to get this man to listen.

Bors leant down slightly from his saddle, "Come, Arthur. Let's go, hm?"

But Annia could feel a tugging in her chest in the direction of the people and that man that suffered her fate.

"Arthur."

Her commander looked at her in answer and she turned her head indicating that the people needed help too. Maybe it was her sympathy towards them, as they were trapped much in the same way she was, but she didn't want to leave them behind to the Saxons.

Arthur nodded and motioned for her to follow. Sliding to the ground Annia fell into step next to Arthur. Some of the people they approached regarded them with awe and hope, but most looked at the pair with fear and apprehension. Annia didn't blame them, she and Arthur were after all in the service of the ones oppressing them.

A tall, incredibly thin man walked up to Arthur and started talking to him about how famous Arthur was. Clearly he was thinking they were there to set the serfs free.

Annia stopped with Arthur, his stony gaze fixed on the man on the frame, but she stayed facing his front, scared to see what had become of the flesh on his back, "Who is this man?"

The lad, Ganis, said he was the village elder.

"He defied our master, Marius. Most of the food we grow is sent out by sea to be sold. He asked that we keep a little more for ourselves, that's all. My arse has been snappin' at the grass I'm so hungry! You're from Rome. Is it true that Marius is a spokesman for God and that it's a sin to defy him?"

Annia couldn't believe her ears. Her desire to end that pitiful Roman's life was suddenly a physical pain in her chest.

Arthur's rage was clear as well as he drew Excalibur and cut the chains. The man, still barely conscious fell into a heap on the ground and rolled so that his back was revealed to Annia.

She took several steps back at sight, her own memories of the pain overwhelming her for a moment.

Arthur pointed his sword at the people, frightening them somewhat, "I tell you now. Marius is not of God. And you, all of you, were free from your first breath! Help this man."

A few serfs stepped forward and pulled him up.

"Now hear me. A vast and terrible army is coming this way. They will show no mercy, spare no one. Those of you who are able should gather your things

and begin to move south towards Hadrian's Wall. Those unable shall come with us. You, serve me now. Get these people ready."

Ganis began ordering the preparations and Annia moved back to the horses as Tristan rode up the estate.

Annia pulled herself onto Sarafax's back and waited for the order to move. That order couldn't come swift enough, she had had enough of this place. Roman cruelty was something they were all accustomed to, having witnessed it firsthand the last fifteen years. But there was always a way for some of them to surpass all experience she had of them.

"You alright lass?"

Annia turned to Bors and nodded, "Why?"

"You look like you saw a ghost back there."

Annia shrugged, her face hiding the unease.

"Get back to work!"

A soldier's harsh command made Annia glance to her right, seeing two men dressed in brown robes walling up what was probably an entrance to a cellar or something.

She didn't it was all that important, but once her eyes took in the sight, she felt a chill go up her spine. Something about that doorway was just so ominous, it seemed a dark presence hung over that whole space.

Then the sound of drums carried over the mountains and Annia started getting anxious. They needed to go now.

But Arthur had pulled his sword free again and was approaching the door. Annia sighed, the other knight copying her annoyance.

"What is this?"

One of the men in the robes said fearfully, "You cannot go in there, this place is forbidden."

Annia listened to the knights' insistence that they should leave, but Arthur instructed Dagonet to break the wall down. The giant then proceeded to kick the wooden door open behind the broken wall.

Annia stepped back as the door opened, the smell of rotting flesh and damp filled her nose and made her stomach turn. Supposing there was a reason the monks didn't want people down there?

Gawain looked to the monks and said cordially, "After you."

When they refused he shoved them in and made to follow, but gave her a withering look as she stepped forward to follow him.

"I'd rather you didn't go down, Annia."

"Well, tough."

Annia stepped past the knight, giving him mischievous smile, and entered the dark tunnel.

She wished she'd listened to Gawain as she caught sight of the weapons of torture, trying so hard not to notice the dried blood and dirt that seemed stuck to everything.

Annia followed Lancelot who had lit a torch, further illuminating the horrors that this place must have seen, her rage slowly building the further she walked into the keep.

Stepping through a doorway of sorts the knights were faced with worse. There were monks who looked like they hadn't seen the sun for years, or a bath for that matter, murmuring their prayers while people lay, sat and hung chained to walls, all looking as if their souls had abandoned their bodies. Annia stepped over a body and nearly tripped over its legs, legs that were bent in several places. She could feel the small breakfast she'd had start to rise into her throat.

Lancelot seemed particularly disturbed as he turned angrily to Arthur and said, "Is this the work of your god?"

The guilt could be seen in Arthur's eyes as he instructed to search for any people still alive.

"By the smell they're all dead." Gawain turned just as a monk stepped forward opening his mouth, probably to insult the intruders.

Annia grimaced at how sinister Gawain's voice sounded as he threatened the monk. But these maniacs deserved it. She wanted nothing more than to be left alone in a room with one them, weapons or no. The monk then began muttering again, turning his head down and clasping his hands in front of his face to further muffle his words.

If any of the knights had being paying attention, they would have realized that he was praying for forgiveness for the filthy pagan life he was about to take.

Annia watched as Dagonet pulled a small boy from one of the pits, Gawain and Galahad cutting chains and cage doors. When it was decided that no others, besides a woman, were alive, Arthur gave the order to leave. Annia couldn't have been more relieved. Her legs were getting unsteady the more she looked around, not only from the thick disgusting air, but the small room itself was making her queasy, her breathing slowly getting shallower. So when she was moving to leave, the last out the door, and the monk charged at her, Annia's suddenly weakened state made it difficult to stop him. She let out a cry as she was shoved against the wall, the monk screaming words at her that she didn't understand. As she pushed back he was pulled off and she slid to the ground from the weight that was suddenly no longer there. Leaning back against the wall Annia glared at the monk as he was disposed of by Lancelot. Annia felt something wet on her neck and rubbed it with her hand.

"Oh, that whore's son!" she said in a whisper as the blood continued to flow down her skin, staining her tunic. Lancelot pulled her up and asked if she was alright. Annia covered the wound with her hand and waved him off.

"Let's just get the hell out of here."

Everyone else was already outside, tending to the boy and woman they had brought from the keep. Annia watched the commotion that followed, too tired to really care about what was happening.

Gawain appeared next to her as she was attempting to drag herself onto Sarafax's saddle, the party already beginning to move off from the estate now that the prisoners were tended to.

"Are you alright, Annia? You look pale."

Without turning, afraid she'd give herself away, Annia answered, "Only because it's so bloody freezing out." Grey spots appeared in her vision and then Annia did turn, her hand dropping from her neck.

Gawain shouted out a curse and grabbed her, hauling her over to the caravan Dagonet was in.

The giant looked up from the boy's broken arm and his face twisted in confusion.

"What happened?"

"I don't know, she seemed fine in the keep, next thing's she's bleeding everywhere."

Annia attempted to shrug Gawain off, not realizing his arms were actually the only thing keeping her upright. "Will you both calm yourselves? I'm fine, it's just a scratch."

Dagonet took her and placed on the bed and she slouched more than she probably should have for someone who only got scratched. Her head was so heavy, her eyes wanted to close.

"Annia, who did this to you?"

Did they not see _any_ of what happened?

She lifted a hand sluggishly, indicating the estate that was now behind them.

"The…the whore's son." That sounded more intelligent in her head.

"Never mind, Gawain I need my sewing things. Unfortunately Lucan's arm will have to wait."

Who's Lucan?

Annia was silent as Gawain went to fetch the tools, trying to focus as Dagonet instructed her to press a cloth to her wound. She knew what was happening, she was losing blood fast. Her hand shook as it held the cloth, her head becoming too heavy to hold up. Dagonet tilted her head back and pulled the cloth away, muttering curses as he threaded a needle.

Oh lovely, another scar.

"It's not deep, but it's long, enough that you'll bleed to death soon." Which meant this stitching was going to hurt. A lot.

"You know I don't much like the rule of never lying to a wounded man."

She let out a growl as the needle went in, deep. If there was one thing she hated it was the feeling of thread being pulled through her skin. Dagonet was working quickly, the threat of bleeding out speeding up his hands. Every time Annia's slumped further Dagonet would shove her back up.

"Whatever you do, don't go to sleep, Annia."

"Very well, Dag." Her voice sounded a millions leagues away, even to her own ears.

She vaguely heard Arthur speaking to that woad girl, her screams giving Annia a headache.

"What's her problem?" tiredness was making her even snottier than usual.

"Her fingers were broken." Dagonet didn't look up.

"Aw wee, lamb." She didn't care if they heard her. She didn't really care about anything right now.

"Can I sleep now?" she said through a yawn.

"No."

Now she screamed. This must have been where the wound was deepest.

"Hush Annia."

"It burns!" forcing herself to keep still was nearly impossible. Her tears flowed freely. One more agonizing jab at her skin and Annia couldn't stop herself from jerking away.

Dagonet looked to his left and said something, though Annia couldn't really hear what it was, the loss of blood and pain making her head pound and drown out all other sounds around her.

Suddenly hands grabbed her and held her against something hard, still sitting up. Annia could barely move. Looking as far back as she could with just her eyes, she realized Gawain was bracing her against him so she didn't pull away from Dagonet's hands again. When was he going to finish?

Gawain was talking to her, but she barely heard him.

"What?"

"I said, tell me the name of the place we live in."

"Why?"

"So that you don't pass out and die."

Well that was rude.

"Hadrian's Wall."Annia sighed. This was beyond a waste of time. But it was keeping her alert. Smart decision, Gawain.

"Good, now how many of Arthur's knights are there?"

"Eight."

"And their names?"

"Arthur, Tristan, Lancelot, Galahad, Dagonet, Bors, you and me."

By now Dagonet had finished and was wrapping a strip of bandage around Annia's neck. It hurt unlike anything, but he was sure she'd survive… now.

"Now, I need you lie on the floor with your feet up. Keep drinking water, lots of it, and I'll check up on you in a while."

Annia nodded and stood, promptly falling on her backside. Dagonet shook his head at her, "Slowly does it, lass."

Annia glared at him as she was pulled up, Gawain having been too slow to catch her from where he sat, "Couldn't have told me that sooner?"

Gawain was still lingering, watching her with a look of horror and worry. She waved him off after Dagonet told him he could go now.

"Off with you, Gawain. I'll be fine."

After he left, Annia all but dragged herself to the side of the caravan, propping her legs up to rest on the wall into somewhat of a sitting position, just upside down. Dagonet placed a pillow under her head and Annia let out a sigh. She was already feeling a little better, but her head was still pounding and it felt as if someone was sitting on each of her limbs.

She hoped that whore's son died slowly, painfully. She hoped there'd be screams.

Hearing a laugh Annia lifted her head and threw it back down in frustration.

"If either of you say anything I will cut you in your sleep."

Galahad and Lancelot just continued laughing. True there was nothing funny about what had happened, or how easily Annia could have died if Gawain hadn't shown up, but the position she was in now was priceless and even she had to giggle.

But her laughter died instantly as a voice interrupted them. The two knights left, moving past the caravan, and Annia was left with the woad who had spoken to her.

"You seem close to them."

"I've spent fifteen years of my life fighting alongside them." Manners be damned, Annia closed her eyes and didn't make to continue this conversation. Yes, the woman had suffered but she didn't need to make such a big deal out of it, forcing Arthur to coddle her like a child because of a few broken fingers. Gods if she made a fuss every time she broke something?

"I've heard of you, you know."

"Is it?"

"The woman knight."

"And here I thought my chest was just shaped oddly."

"Did you come here in place of a loved one?"

"That's not really your concern is it?" did this woman not know how to hold her tongue?

She heard her laugh, obviously having given the exact answer she wanted, "They don't take girls to be their slaves." Strange how accurate that statement was. How were Annia and the others anymore than slaves in reality?

"What brought you here? Did you follow them out of infatuation?"

If Annia wasn't completely useless in her exhaustion, broken fingers would have been the least of this girl's worries. She was digging at things she should see were none of her business.

Instead of answering, Annia closed her eyes and pretended to sleep.

"Leave her be, girl. You know nothing of what you speak."

Annia opened her eyes and saw Arthur on his horse outside the caravan, speaking through the curtain at the woad. The woad, instead of being ashamed of her despicable prying, smiled knowingly and got up, going to the front of the caravan as Arthur rode his horse past them. Annia guessed she was turning her inquisitive words elsewhere, and sure enough she heard the woad speaking to Arthur about his life. Why did that woman think she knew them? Furthermore why did she presume to speak of things that had nothing to do with her? Opening wounds that were trying to heal, with the promise of freedom, was something she had absolutely no right to do!

But Annia let her anger dissipate some, the need for sleep being too overwhelming at the moment. She'd be angry later, when she had the opportunity and strength to take it out on someone.

_Reviews are love!_


End file.
